


Rolling with the Punches

by zunlight



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Adora is Whipped (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Anxious Adora (She-Ra), Boxer Adora, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra is Bad at Feelings (She-Ra), Catra is Whipped (She-Ra), Childhood Trauma, Drunk Adora (She-Ra), Drunk Catra (She-Ra), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fist Fights, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jock Adora (She-Ra), Kickboxing, Kissing, Minor Character Death, POV Adora (She-Ra), POV Catra (She-Ra), Scorpia (She-Ra) is a Good Friend, Shadow Weaver is still a bitch, Swearing, Tension, Useless Lesbians, horny dumbasses, idk fighting is hot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zunlight/pseuds/zunlight
Summary: The dark lighting of the crowd is no match for her miscolored blue and yellow eyes, staring directly at her, a small but confident smile on her lips. Oh my god. She’s fucking mesmerizing. Adora nearly walks into the padded post in her corner before she caught herself, resulting in a bigger smile from the girl. Adora sheepishly smiles back, unable to pay attention to anything else, when Huntara grabs her shoulders and turns her around.ORAdora works her way up in the professional kickboxing world for a selfless cause. She meets and instantly hits it off with a mesmerizing, confident Catra, but will she be able to stay focused and help the ones she loves?
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 72
Kudos: 211





	1. Rolling with the Punches

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction so any suggestions, comments, or thoughts are really encouraged! I hope you like it, as you can tell I am a big lesbian for big dumb oblivious jocks. Happy Holidays!

Adora lifts up the top two ropes and steps into the ring. Her headphones send vibrations down her body as she listens to her playlist specifically for her pre-fight ritual. It’s been only two matches, but still. She likes to establish routine. She glances at the crowd. This is definitely the biggest audience she’s had.

Her music starts playing the last song of the playlist, right on time. Adora closes her eyes and shakes out her arms, hopping from one foot to the next. _You’ve trained for this. You got this._ She exhales a long breath as she takes out her headphones and turns around.

“Alright, remember what we talked about. What’s our strategy, Blondie?” Huntara, her buff _as fuck_ trainer, asked while holding on to the outside of the ring. 

Adora pauses a minute to remember. She looks over to her opponent who’s turned away from her, wearing a green robe with a black Horde Enterprises skull embroidered on the back. She could see her dreads tied up in a low ponytail, her muscular legs peaking out from the bottom of the robe. “Lonnie. She tries to get into your head and hits you when you’re off guard. She’s talkative and mentions your weaknesses. So… uhh…” Her voice falters, why is her mind blanking?

“Okay, good. But come on, Blondie, what’s our strategy?” Adora shakes her head, hoping it will help her focus. “Don’t put energy into talking back. Keep eyes on her hips, because you can see her moves in them before she attacks.” She adds. 

“Good. Keep up your defense, I know you like to take those first steps but there’s nothing wrong with tiring her out a little. You know who you’re fighting for. You got this, Blondie.”

“GOOOOOO SHE-RA!!!!” yells someone from the crowd, but before they could finish Adora looks past her trainer to the front row and smiles. She gives a wave to her good friend, Bow and his girlfriend, Glimmer, and focuses back on Huntara.

Adora takes a breath and takes her gold mouthguard from her trainers outstretched hand. Huntara grabs Adora’s gloves and helps her slip them on. She knocks the white gloves with gold wrist guards together and jumps up and down a couple times.

_You’ve got this. Just breathe. Don’t think, just do._

The stadium lights dim while the spotlights dart around the audience, the volume rising from the screams and cheers coming from the crowd. The commentator, a middle-aged white guy wearing an ill-fitting black suit, steps into the ring with a microphone. The crowd silences in anticipation for the event.

“Welcome to your main event of the Brightmoon Annual Amateur Womens Kickboxing Tournament!” The commentator pauses as the crowd cheers back, most in a drunken stupor. Everyone could feel the energetic nature of the crowd. Adora backs up towards her trainer, arms outstretched. Huntara slips off Adora’s white robe, revealing her all black sports bra and loose-fitting black shorts with two thin white stripes running down the sides of her legs. Her laced up light weight shoes increases her grip on the mat as she bounces from leg to leg and shakes out her whole body. She looks down at the mat and takes a moment to feel her body. She can feel the energy rising.

“This match it scheduled for seven rounds of action in the middleweight division.” The commentator continues, walking around the ring, engaging the crowd.

As the commentator introduces the tournament judges and referee, Adora closes her eyes and the stadium sounds start to fade. She breathes in and counts to four, holding for three, and exhales for four again. She repeats this three times, something her friend, Perfuma, taught her. Her anxiety about the match, her opponent, and anything else flows away as she feels more and more present. She runs through her mantras, getting into her zone. Adora feels her muscles ache with energy, with anticipation, begging to move. Her body buzzes with excitement as she starts to stretch her arms overhead, grabbing her left arm with her other hand, stretching it over her chest. She switches arms as the referee joins them in the ring.

“Now, for the real reason you all are here… Introducing: first, at the blue corner, she comes from the Horde, at 152 pounds, and wears green with silver trim, representing Horde Enterprises. With a professional record of six wins, two loses, one draw, and four knockouts, please welcome, Lonnie ‘the Raptor’!” The crowd cheers, chanting “rap-tor, rap-tor!” as she walks around the ring, a smug smile creeping from her lips. She stares right at Adora and mouths, _Can’t wait to see your pretty little face smashed up against the mat._ She points towards the floor then smacks her gloves together. _Hope you like being on bottom._ Lonnie laughs as Adora scrunches her nose, turning around meeting back up with her coach.

“And her opponent, starting at the red corner, she comes to us tonight from a small town you’ve probably never head of… Eternia! Coming in at 164 pounds, wearing white with gold trim, and unrepresented at this time. With a professional record of two wins, zero loses, zero draws, and two knockouts, she makes her biggest amateur debut yet. I’m sure you’ve seen her video online, please welcome, ‘She-Ra’!” The crowd cheers and stomps, Adora feeling the ground vibrate with noise and energy. Adora steps toward the middle of the ring, right hand lifted towards the sky, joining the crowd’s noise. Adora barely hears her own cheers as the audience goes crazy. She walks the perimeter of the ring, pointing towards each side of the crowd, feeding off the energy directed towards herself. She makes her way back to her trainer, pointing once more at Bow and his girlfriend, Glimmer, as Huntara checks her gloves and mouthguard.

Adora and Huntara make their way back towards the center of the ring, meeting up with Lonnie and her trainer, plus the commentator and referee. The referee begins his spiel, where both Lonnie and Adora lock eyes, not paying attention to a single word he says. As he finishes, Adora holds her gloves out for Lonnie to touch, a common sign of respect at the beginning of any match. Lonnie turns around with a big smirk on her face, as Adora is left with her gloves in the air. Adora huffs back toward her corner for one last talks with Huntara before the match.

As she walks back, she sees Scorpia sitting next to Bow, a friend from the kickboxing gym. Adora raises her glove slightly towards Scorpia and nearly stops in her tracks when she sees who’s sitting next to Scorpia. The dark lighting of the crowd is no match for her miscolored blue and yellow eyes, staring directly at her, a small but confident smile on her lips. _Oh my god. She’s fucking mesmerizing._ Adora nearly walks into the padded post in her corner before she caught herself, resulting in a bigger smile from the girl. Adora sheepishly smiles back, unable to pay attention to anything else, when Huntara grabs her shoulders and turns her around.

“Focus, Blondie.” Adora shakes her in an attempt to rid her thoughts of that girl… of her eyes, her confident little smile, the way her hair takes up more space than the rest of her body…

“Adora!” _Shit. Huntara never calls me that._ “Yes, yes, sorry, I’m here. I’m here.” Adora replies, focusing on her trainer.

“You have to focus, Blondie, c’mon. I know you got this. Now, everyone’s seen your video and know you have a killer hook uppercut combo, but they’re going to be expecting that. You haven’t played someone like Lonnie before, so tune her out and focus on her body. Play the game that _you_ know. I’ve got your back, but it’s up to you now. You’ve got the discipline and you’ve got the spirit, now it’s up to you to show the focus. Now, let’s fucking go, Blondie! Show that bitch what you’ve got!”

Adora grins excitedly at her trainer, fire in her eyes as Huntara leaves the ring. Lonnie glares at her from across the ring, only the small referee separating them. Adora brings her gloves to her face as she hears the signature bell ring, signifying the start of the match.

Lonnie lurches forward, long, confident strides bringing her closer to Adora’s corner. Not wanting to be trapped, Adora shuffles to the side as the circle each other, stepping closer with every breath. Adora jumps lightly on the balls of her feet, waiting for Lonnie to strike. As they continue to circle around each other, Adora stays focused on her opponent’s hips, itching for their signature tell. Lonnie claps her gloves together in front of Adora’s trance along with a laugh.

“My eyes are up here, asshole,” Lonnie jeers, as Adora looks up in with annoyance, Lonnie pounces with agility towards her, winding her right arm back. Adora weaves to the side of her opponents jab just in time, delivering two blows to Lonnie’s side. Adora shuffles backwards, giving Lonnie the time to turn towards her, anger in her eyes. They circle the ring again, but this time, the energy shifted. Adora no longer felt the nervous jitters she felt a moment before, she was feeding off her opponent’s frustration and miscalculation. Adora was now opposite of her corner, and glances towards Huntara who gave her a single nod.

Adora steps forward, hunger fueling her muscles. She redirects her stance once more, shuffling slowly towards Lonnie, moving towards an offensive strategy as opposed to her defensive strategy she focuses on earlier. Adora furrows her brow as she stares intensely at Lonnie’s hips, eagerly waiting for her famous pivot side kick. Lonnie’s attempts to get into Adora’s head again, but Adora doesn’t pay her any mind. She focuses on Lonnie’s inching forward, her back right leg bouncing in anticipation. Adora can’t help but smile as she waits eagerly to deflect and attack.

Lonnie shuffles towards Adora with her left foot forward as she begins to rotate her hips, bringing her right leg up and forwardwith plans to make contact with Adora’s abdomen. Adora brings her right hand up, shoving Lonnie’s leg to Adora’s right side. She shuffles towards Lonnie’s backside as her opponent huffs in frustration. As Lonnie’s right leg lands back on the mat, she didn’t even have time to rotate back as Adora’s left hand makes contact with Lonnie’s jaw. Lonnie collapses on the mat, with cheers erupting from the small stadium. With a minute left in the round, Adora grins as she shuffles around the ring, cheering with the crowd. Lonnie spends eight seconds getting back on her feet, almost giving Adora another knockout win. Lonnie smears the blood coming out from her split lip on her arm, hatred oozing from her eyes.

Adora’s confidence grows exponentially, as she raises her gloves to defend Lonnies’ tired, frustrated, and uncoordinated series of attacks. Adora easily dodges her, sending small jabs in reply. As they get closer and closer, Adora grabs Lonnie and pulls her shoulders towards her, bringing her knee in contact with Lonnie’s stomach. Lonnie pushes back, exhaustion plastered on her face, with 10 seconds left in the first round. They begin to circle around each other in a halfhearted attempt to finish the time in this round. With a couple seconds left, Adora looks past Huntara towards her friends, once again making eye contact with that gorgeous, distracting woman. Adora can see the intense focus on this girl’s face as she watches her, laid relaxed in her seat dripping confidence. The girl then has the audacity to wink at Adora. Her mind immediately short circuits, all the confidence from her fight draining as she literally looks behind her, wondering if that wink was for her or someone else. She turns her head back around to see Lonnie’s glove headed right for the middle of her face. 


	2. Seems Like a Dream They Got Me Hypnotized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra is a big 'ole lesbian who is unable to keep herself together. Catra's POV on Adora's fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thanks for reading! I don't really plan to write both POVs from the same time period like this again, it was just too good. Also cheers to Fleetwood Mac. They got little to do with the story, I'm just a hoe for their music, hence the title. Hope you enjoy! <3

Catra groans as Scorpia grabs her wrist, pulling her through the crowd. The air reeks of bad alcohol and sweat as they pass the concession stand selling a warm cup of beer for … eight dollars?! _Jesus Christ. Good thing I brought my own._ Catra slides her hand inside her coat lining, feeling two bottles of still cold beer and smiles to herself, because why the hell would she pay sixteen dollars for a slight buzz and a chance of some disease?

Scorpia continues to drag Catra down a hallway towards their seats. Catra saunters on, making it known at every possible instance that she was annoyed. She didn’t even want to be out, she’d rather wallow in her own company, getting drunk on her own shitty beer and maybe draw in her sketchbook, but she knew that Scorpia wouldn’t leave her alone until she said yes to _one_ outing. She figured that out of all of Scorpia’s offerings, a kickboxing match that Perfuma couldn’t go to would be more interesting than a trip to the Bright Moon Zoo. She hates zoos.

“Alright… We’re looking for Bow and… oh gosh… what’s her name?” Scorpia looks towards Catra, expecting an answer. Catra glares back, not knowing who _the fuck_ she was talking about.

“Hmm…” Scorpia grabs her chin and furrows her brows, Catra can practically hear her gears turning in her head. “Glitter! Hmm.. that’s not right… Glimmer?” _Jesus Christ. Who the fuck’s named Glimmer?_ “Yeah… I think that’s it! Okay so we’re looking for Glimmer and Bow, they’re Perfuma’s friends I met a couple of times,” Scorpia scans the seats in front of the arena. After a couple moments, her eyes light up and screams, “BOW!! GLIMMER!!!” She waves her arms around, causing other audience members to move far away from her huge frame and flailing arms. They make eye contact with a girl with dyed pink and purple hair and a baby-faced guy who lights up at the sight of Scorpia.

Scorpia heads toward the two open seats just past Bow and Glimmer, Catra in tow. Catra groans as she follows behind Scorpia, shuffling towards their seats, Scorpia apologizing to every single fucking person that stands up in order for her to pass.

“Scorpia! It’s so good to see you again! Is Perfuma not coming?” Bow asks and he stands up, giving her a hug and then letting them pass to get to their seats just past them.

“No, oh shoot I am so sorry I forgot to tell you! Perfuma had to lead an emergency meditation session with a client, so I brought my roommate, Catra, instead, who I’m sure I’ve talked about, because, you know, we already got the tickets!” Catra gives Bow and Glimmer a small nod as she passes by them to sit in the seat next to Scorpia at the end of the group, while Scorpia, Bow, and Glimmer talk about something Catra deems irrelevant. As she sits down, she lets out a sigh, sinking deeper into the small, black, slightly cushioned seat. Just as she’s about to reach for a drink she smuggled in, her phone vibrates from the inside of the pocket and she freezes. Her stomach drops but carefully doesn’t change her facial expression and reaches for her phone, knowing who was about to ruin her night. 

Shadow Weaver: _Meeting tonight. 2:30am. Don’t be late. I have a job for you._

_Fuck. Of course it’s at fucking 2:30._ Catra shoves her phone back into her pocket as Scorpia, arrow boy, and glitter laugh about something. She huffs to herself and pops the cap off her barely cold beer with her house key, her mood and patience decreasing every second.

“Um. I don’t think you’re allowed to do that here, _Catra_.” Catra turns her head, slowly, towards Scorpia’s short, pink and purple haired friend, making eye contact. She carefully brings the bottle to her lips and tips it back, her gaze unwavering, taking a swig.

“Oops.” Catra replies, her statement dripping with as much sarcasm as she can manage and turns back to look at the ring in front of her. From the corner of Catra’s eye she sees Mrs. Uptight flustered and muttering to Bow and Scorpia. Just as Scorpia looks at her with a warm, but concerned look, the lights start to dim, resulting in hollering from the crowd.

At the opposite end of the arena, she sees a woman with dark skin and a shimmery green robe enter alongside a henchmen-like goon. She struts with confidence, giving high fives to friends and family close to the ring, her neat rows of dreadlocks meeting at the base of her neck into a low ponytail. She spins around with her wrapped hands in the air, the famous Horde Enterprises insignia embroidered in the black, resembling a black long skull. She sticks her tongue out as she flexes toward the rows of audience members, the crowd building in anticipation. Catra couldn’t help but feel her heart rate rise in along with the crowd.

_Wow._ _And who_ the fuck _is that?_ Catra’s gaze immediately locks onto another woman entering the arena from the closest entry way, a long, white and gold robe covering her broad shoulders. Her blonde hair is put up neatly into a ponytail, a small poof of hair just above her forehead. Her piercing blue eyes gaze straight forward as she walks towards the ring. She walks calmly down the aisle in between sections of seats while the crowds’ murmurs grow louder.

“Oh my gods, is that the She-Ra?”

“Did you see her video online?”

“Hell yeah! She knocked _the shit_ out of that other girl!”

Catra watches her as she walks, mesmerized. She has a sharp jawline with a face like one of those Roman sculptures, every feature direct and purposeful. Her arms swing as they walk, effortlessly showing her athletic build. Catra can see her quads define her thighs on every step as she approaches the ring with her trainer, who Catra just noticed even though she had been behind the kickboxer the whole time. Catra leads forward slightly, eager to get a closer look at this woman who resembles a fucking goddess.

“Catraaaa,” Scorpia teases, “I know you think she’s hot,” she giggles, waiting for Catra’s defensive reply. “Ugh, Scorpia! I mean, maybe like, objectively… but I don’t know,” Catra attempts to hide her blush by sinking deeper into her seat and kicking her feet up onto the unoccupied seat below her, taking a swig of her beer.

“I’ll introduce her to you if you want, she’s super cool! There might be an afterparty tonight, if she wins! She’s super sweet, although it may not look like it when she’s in the zone.”

“You uhh … you know her?” Catra asks trying her best to hide her growing interest.

“Oh my gosh yes! Adora trains at the kickboxing gym I go to sometimes! Plus, she’s one of Perfuma’s good friends, Perfuma helps her a lot with meditation and yoga and such, just with everything going on with her family,” Scorpia gasps and smacks her forehead with her massive hand. “Oh my gosh I was not supposed to say that. Oh, Wildcat, you know how bad I am with secrets, please pretend you didn’t hear that!” Catra shrugs in response, keeping her curiosity subdued and refocuses on Adora. _Adora. I’ve never heard a name like that._

Catra watches intensely as Adora reaches up to the ropes that surround the ring, pulling herself up. Even with the robe Catra could see her arms bulge against the fabric as her muscles strain to pull up her large frame. She slips seamlessly through the ropes and steps onto the mat. Catra watches her, fascinated, as Adora looks around at the crowd. Adora closes her eyes and shakes out her arms, her calf muscles visibly flexing when she hops from foot to foot. Catra can’t help but stare.

Adora turns to talk to her trainer, another tall, muscular woman with a stern look. Catra watches Adora’s facial expression as gets more focused and into the match ahead of her.

“GOOOOOO SHE-RA!!!!” Bow screams, standing up from his seat, trying to get Adora’s attention. Adora gives him a small wave and Bow returns to his seat, a smile erupting across his face.

Catra watches as Adora’s trainer helps her put on her gloves and mouthguard, both of which are white with gold accents. Adora slams the gloves together and jumps, her ponytail jostling from side to side. Her chest moves up and down with purposeful breaths as she lifts her head up, exposing her neck and collar bones. Catra can’t take her eyes off her.

The lights dim, causing the audience all around Catra to clap and shout for the upcoming match. As the commentator begins his introductions, Adora, with her back facing her friends, drops her arms for her trainer to slip off the robe. The white fabric drops, revealing how fucking _shredded_ her back and shoulders are. Catra’s mouth slightly parts, unable to stop herself from staring at this incredibly athletic, toned, and extremely fucking hot woman right in front of her. Not only are her muscles prominent, her simple black sports bra and loose black shorts tie her image together. 

The commentator continues, introducing her opponent, Lonnie. She wasn’t small by any means, Lonnie looked like she could bench one Catra in each arm, but close to Adora she looked puny.

“Hey, uh.. how tall is she? Adora, I mean.” Catra asks nonchalantly, her first contribution towards any conversation with Bow and Glimmer as well. She leans slightly closer to the group, any attempt of seeming uninterested out the window.

“Hmm… I think 6’2”?” Bow replies, looking at Glimmer for confirmation. She nods, focusing back on the match. _Fuck._ Catra leans back in her seat as the commentator introduces Adora, unable to hide a small grin peaking from the edge of her mouth.

“And her opponent, starting at the red corner, she comes to us tonight from a small town you’ve probably never head of… Eternia! Coming in at 164 pounds, wearing white with gold trim, and unrepresented at this time. With a professional record of two wins, zero loses, zero draws, and two knockouts,” _damn._ _Two wins and two knockouts?_ “She makes her biggest amateur debut yet. I’m sure you’ve seen her video online, please welcome, ‘She-Ra’!” 

The surrounding crowd goes crazy, stomping and cheering in Adora’s name. She shuffles around the ring, adding her own shouts to the noise. She makes her way back around, gloves in the air, and points at her friends’ section of the crowd. Catra’s heart stops, unable to move her eyes away from this stunning woman, smiling the biggest smile despite a mouthguard, and pointing towards her direction. _It’s for Glitter and Arrowboy, idiot._

Catra, intrigued by all the talk about She-Ra’s video, pulls out her phone and Googles ‘She-Ra knockout’, playing the first video that comes up.

“Oh my gosh I’ve seen this like a thousand times. I don’t _really_ condone violence, but seriously this is pure sport. Can I watch it with you?” Scorpia asks and Catra shrugs in response, angling the phone a little towards Scorpia.

The video starts and looks to be from an audience member at a previous match. The camera was shaky, but it was hard to miss Adora’s large stature circling around an equally sized opponent. They both looked sweaty and had hair strewn all over their faces. The camera zooms closer towards the match as they stop circling, looking at both boxers from a side view, a perfect vantage point. Adora’s opponent jabs towards Adora’s face which she easily dodges and takes advantage of her opponent’s lowered hands. Adora hooks her left hand into her opponent’s cheek, causing the girl to put her arms up too high in defense too late, but as expected. Taking the opportunity, Adora explodes her right arm and body upwards, making contact with her opponent’s chin. The girl stumbles backwards, hitting the mat hard. Cheers erupt from the audience as the video plays the combo from different angles, including a similar combination from a previous fight.

“Whew! That was something, right Wildcat?” Scorpia nudges Catra, who tucked her phone away eager to watch Adora’s match. _That was fucking something alright._

“Mmhmm,” She barely manages to respond, watching Adora walk back towards her corner from meeting with Lonnie and the referee.

Her eyes wander towards Adora’s legs as she walks toward her direction, when she raises a glove towards her or Scorpia. Catra smiles softly, but confidently, hoping it’s toward her. Adora shifts her eyes towards Catra and almost looks slightly … surprised? They continue their mutual gaze for another second before Adora breaks it – because she practically runs into the padded post in the corner of the ring. Catra stifles a small laugh, widening her grin even more when she sees Adora smile as well. They keep their stare until her trainer grabs her and spins her around.

_Wow._ Catra can’t help but smile as she can’t get those icy blue eyes out of her head. _Oh my god. Relax. It was one look, c’mon, pull it together. No distractions._ Catra shakes her head and runs her hand through her hair, her smile faltering. She slinks back down into the chair after realizing she was literally at the edge of her seat and chugs the last half of her beer, opening the next one shortly after.

Adora talks with her trainer and Catra’s eyes stay locked on the way that her back muscles move and flex delightfully when she hits her gloves together. Adora’s stature straightens as her trainer leaves the mat, energy radiating off of the kickboxer. She closes her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest, taking deep breaths. She slowly lifts her head up and opens her eyes, ferocity dripping from her glare, a wrinkle in her brow, ready. 

The signature bell rings, echoing throughout the stands. The volume from the crowd increases, building in excitement for the match. Catra leans forward once more, unable to contain her curiosity and attraction.

The two boxers move towards each other. The way they move like they’re dancing, circling around each other in a primal, but beautiful, way. Catra notices a conversation between the boxers, resulting in a small scowl from Adora. It was hot, watching Adora intensely focus on her opponent, her arms itching for contact. Lonnie attempts to punch her but Adora moves to the right side quickly, hitting Lonnie’s side with two quick, but powerful, hits. Catra lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

The two opponents separate, circling once more. Catra had a perfect view of Adora’s body as she stands facing her on the opposite side of the ring. Adora’s abs glisten under the spotlights, sweat gathering across her forehead and arms. Catra could feel the energy change on the ring, Adora fueled by her blows she sent to her opponent. Adora smirks softly, head tilted down, waiting for something. Catra, fired up by the crowd and Adora’s energy, feels the scene gradually slow down, watching the boxers in slow motion.

The women inch towards each other, eager to prove the other wrong. Lonnie pushes off from her right foot, twisting right towards Adora’s side. Catra squints, preparing for a hard kick, when Adora steps back and pushes Lonnie’s foot aside. Adora takes a huge step to her left, toward her opponent’s backside as Lonnie’s leg is still in the air. Lonnie stumbles as her foot makes contact with the mat, barely having the chance to look back, just as Adora slams her left glove across Lonnie’s jaw. Adora’s friends, Catra included, stands up and cheers, powered by the intense, beautifully put together attack by Adora. She joins the cheers, grinning from ear to ear as she looks at the crowd cheering her name.

Lonnie gets up with two seconds to spare, and wipes her arm against her lip, staining her forearm red. The next minute goes by quickly, with a series of hits from Adora and Lonnie unable to make contact. With six seconds left on the round, Catra finds herself once again making eye contact with the insanely attractive girl in front of her. Catra lifts her head up, gathering all the confidence she can muster, and winks. She sees the boxer’s smile fade in shock and looks behind her. Catra closes her eyes and chuckles to herself. _Oh my god, what an idiot_. Catra opens her eyes just in time to see Lonnie’s glove slam into Adora’s unsuspecting nose as she turns her head back around, causing her to fall back into the ropes behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I greatly appreciate your support from my first chapter, 60 kudos and 480 hits is like a dream! I am so used to writing research papers for my science courses so I hope this isn't too factual and straight to the point! Thank you for reading!


	3. Saved by the Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora finishes her match, meets up with Razz, and attends her afterparty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I hope you all had a wonderful week and enjoy this chapter! This chapter was mainly for setting up Adora's character and some ~world building~ let me know what you think!
> 
> TW: Some mentions of Alzheimer's/sickness and brief flashback of homelessness

All Adora hears is an intense, deafening ringing in her ears, unsure if it’s from the bell or from her own head. She feels the rope of the ring against her back, uncertain as to how she got there. Her eyesight was blurry at best as she stumbles towards a shape that resembles her trainer, her mouth tasting of metal. The referee interrupts her stumble, surveying the damage.

“Are you feeling okay? The ringside Physician will be here in a moment to make sure your nose isn’t broken or fractured.” Adora tries her best to nod, keeping her head elevated and trying to catch her breath. Another woman joins her and the referee, giving Adora some gauze to clean up the blood dripping into her mouth and below her chin. Her medical gloves feel cold against Adora’s face as she softly feels around her nose, looking for signs of pain or swelling. Adora focuses on her breathing, putting all her effort into showing no signs of pain, of weakness.

“It looks like it’s not fractured, but it’ll definitely be bruised. You’re cleared to continue, but be careful,” the physician points at Adora as she walks away, stepping under the rope and back to her seat. Adora continues back to her corner, meeting up with her concerned trainer.

“Blondie. Listen to me. You can stop if you want, okay? I know you don’t want to, but let’s be smart about this.”

“Huntara you _know_ I can’t! I’m fine, okay?!” Adora practically shouts, taking a shaky breath and grabbing a water bottler from Huntara’s stretched out hand. “I’m good,” she reassures, “it was just a good hit, is all.”

“It definitely was, Blondie. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I just need to do this.”

“Adora.” _Shit._ “How are you _feeling?”_

Adora reaches up to feel the damage for herself. Taking off her glove, she touches her nose and fights her automatic reaction, unsure if she could take another hit like that. With a deep breath in, she puts her glove back on and makes eye contact with her trainer. She exhales a shaky breath out.

“Worried. Frustrated. Umm… scared? I don’t know. Huntara, you know I need this. Winning this tournament could be my chance.”

Huntara nods, concentrated on the red-faced kickboxer in front of her. “I know how much you want this. I can see some scouts in the crowd as well. So, use those feelings, uhh what does Perfuma say… channel it! That bitch Lonnie has nothing on you, and I know you’re tired Blondie, so let’s go out and finish this, okay?”

Adora nods eagerly, feeling power and energy returning to her muscles. She grounds herself, focusing on feeling each muscle as she works her way up from the floor to her head. After getting so easily distracted before, Adora knew she couldn’t let anything get in the way of this match. No matter how beautiful, how mesmerizing, how incredible that girl in the audience was, she can’t let her distract her from beating Lonnie and winning the tournament. _For Razz. Do it for Razz._

The bells rings again, signifying the second round. Lonnie looks like she’s out for blood, eyeing Adora’s face. Adora returns the stare, freshly motivated by the presence of professional scouts in the stands. Adora shuffles towards her opponent, gloves shielding her face, knowing she was going to have to make the first punch. Lonnie returns the aggression, smirking as they both advance toward the other.

Lonnie attempts to land a series of punches, but fortunately for Adora she gets away in time. She may be tall and clumsy at times, but she’s surprisingly quick on her feet when she needs to be. Adora uses this to her advantage, getting out from a corner Lonnie attempted to trap her in, quickly shuffling towards the center of the mat. Lonnie’s patience has quickly deteriorated as both boxers drip with blood and sweat. It’s only been about 20 seconds in the second round, but exhaustion is visibly present from both parties. Adora can still taste blood in her mouth as her vengeance grows, motivated by the possibility of finishing the bout.

Adora has had enough of this. She breathes in, watching Lonnie with precision, waiting for her moment to strike. At this moment, Adora doesn’t feel any parts of her aching body, only fire within her own muscles, itching to attack. It’s almost as though she can’t control it – the pure fury she feels within her, with no capacity for mercy. It turns on like a light switch, eager to finish this once and for all.

One of Lonnie’s biggest weaknesses is that she goes all in. Either all attack, or all defense. In an amateur match, that’s great and she can often land a serious punch. But Adora knows better. When Lonnie is about to jab, she drops her other hand, often her left, leaving her defenseless from any punch or hit coming from her opponent’s right hand. Adora noticed this earlier and is now eager to take advantage.

So, when she sees the opportunity, she takes it.

The second Lonnie starts dropping her left hand, even before she begins to jab with her right, adrenaline pushes through Adora’s body. Adora easily side steps the jab, moving swiftly to her right, dodging Lonnie’s fist. Without even thinking about it, Adora takes a step towards her opponent and winds up her right arm, impatient to make contact with Lonnie’s face. She channels everything she has left into one last punch, unsure if she would have anything else left if this wasn’t the end. Knowing this may be her last chance, she goes for it.

Her gloves smashes into her opponent’s cheek, causing Lonnie’s mouthguard to fly off towards the side. Her body falls easily from the hit, slamming into the mat below her. Cheers erupt from the surrounding stadium while adrenaline still courses through Adora’s veins. She watches as Lonnie splays on her back, groaning and barely moving. Fear seizes Adora as she watches the referee and Physician race towards the kickboxer lying on the mat.

She watches as they check Lonnie for a concussion and other head injuries. Lonnie eventually gets up, with the help of her trainer, and slowly exits the ring in a daze. Adora breaks out of her daze when she hears someone calling her name and sees Huntara stepping into the ring with an ecstatic look on her face.

“Blondie! Holy shit, you won!” _Oh my god. I won. I won the Brightmoon Tournament!_ Adora joins up with Huntara and with energy still flowing through her veins, picks her up and spins her around, despite her trainer’s large frame. Adora’s grin flourishes as she hears the crowd chanting “She-Ra She-Ra!” _I can’t believe it._

Huntara gestures toward the center of the ring where the referee stood, waiting for Adora. She walks toward the center and stands next to the ref. They reach out and grab her arm, and raise it high over both of their heads, signifying she won the match. The stadium erupts in cheers once again, screaming in delight that they got to witness a knockout. Adora continues to cheer with the crowd as the excitement and energy of the audience engulfs her.

Adora meets back up with Huntara and takes off her gloves. She glances toward Bow and Glimmer, who are standing up and dancing. _Badly._ Adora chuckles. They make eye contact and Bow beams with his hands over his heart, then screams, “WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU!” Adora, still not exactly knowing how to take a compliment, smiles back, trying to fight down her blush. She dares to glance next to Bow, where she sees that girl, lounging in her seat watching the crowd. Her mane of hair parted every which way, but it looked purposeful at the same time. Her mismatched colored eyes, one sandy yellow and the other a light teal, glance around the room. She wears ripped skinny jeans with a maroon top, possibly of a band Adora's never heard of, but she's too far away to tell. She sips on her beer with her legs resting on the seat in front of her, confidence radiating off of her like she owns the place. _Who knew just drinking a beer could be so attractive?_ The girl seems to notice someone looking and starts to turn her head toward Adora, when the boxer turns her head, faking obliviousness.

She makes her way out of the ring, sad to take her eyes off one of the most beautiful girls she's ever met, and starts to unwrap the white tape around her hands. An employee from the arena walks up to her and hands her a white envelope, says a quick congrats, and walks away. Adora opens the envelope to see four crisp hundred dollar bills, the prize for winning the tournament. Adora fights the tears that try to escape her eyes. She turns around towards Huntara and opens the envelope again, but before she can give Huntara half, her trainer puts her hand over the envelope. They make eye contact and Huntara shakes her head with a soft smile, “I’m good Blondie.” Before Adora can argue, her trainer grabs her gloves and starts walking with her towards the locker room. Chants of “She-Ra!” slowly fade away the further she walks, a smile still present on both of their faces.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

She steps into the scalding shower, standing there, letting the heat cover her body. With her hands on the cold tile, she leans her head into the shower stream, letting the water wash away the dried blood. She doesn’t let herself stay that way for long, she needs to get home as soon as possible. She scrubs her body raw, still shaking with adrenaline and energy, and steps out of the shower. With a sigh, she grabs her towel and gets ready to meet up with Huntara.

“Blondie! What a bout, you did great! Three knockouts out of three official matches is nearly unheard of, people are going crazy out there!” Huntara lightly punches Adora’s forearm with a grin, although a light punch from Huntara is enough to knock over anyone who isn’t expecting it.

Adora forces a smile back, laughing softly at Huntara’s excitement. Huntara has always felt like a strong role model for Adora, especially a couple years ago when Adora first got a job at the gym. Huntara found Adora one night after her shift just going to town on the gym’s spare punching bags in the back and instead of getting mad, she was able to make a deal with the owner and her friend Glimmer's mom, Angella, where Adora could train there in exchange for some help with tasks around the gym. It’s been a year and Adora hasn’t stopped thanking Huntara and Angella at every opportunity. This job has really been a saving grace for Adora, she met so many kind, incredible people, including her best friends, Bow and Glimmer, who worked at the gym as well. It has also given her the opportunity to train to become a pro kickboxer, in order to pay for Razz’s caretaker.

“Thanks, Huntara. I really wasn’t sure if it was going to work, honestly I was really lucky.” Adora rubs the back of her neck, internally struggling with how to blow off Huntara’s post fight chat to get back home. Adora quickly glances at her watch, 8:42pm. _Spinerella was supposed to be off at 8:30._ Adora quietly clears her throat, hoping Huntara can read her mind. She glances back at her blankly. 

“So, I thought your first round was overall pretty –"

“Actually, Huntara, I’m so sorry but I do have to get home and let off Spinerella, would we be able to talk during training tomorrow?”

“Blondie tomorrow’s your rest day, I-“

“Nope! I’ll be there, 7:30 right?” Adora asks, picking up her gym bag with her gloves strewn over her shoulder and starts walking towards the exit. Before Huntara can respond, Adora shouts, “See you there!” over her shoulder and continues toward her car, not looking back to see Huntara’s reaction.

Adora steps into her trusty, old Toyota, which Razz had gifted to her when she couldn’t drive anymore. She takes a minute to try and find a playlist for the drive to Razz’s home but opted for silence instead. Maybe this could be a good chance to clear her head. Long drives could sometimes do that for Adora, because it was one of the only times Adora and any others didn't expect anything from her. She could just sit and think, or not think at all. 

Unfortunately, it was not a successful chance to clear her head. Razz has been getting worse and Adora couldn’t help but blame herself. Razz had helped her in more ways Adora could ever know, and now Adora can’t even consistently take care of her. Adora’s eyes fill with tears as she remembers the first time Razz found her.

_She was freshly 18, thrown out of the foster home the second it turned midnight on her 18 th birthday. She had been hitchhiking from city to city, ending up in one too many scary situations, trying to get somewhere warmer than Eternia in the winter. She lost a lot of weight those couple months and was trying to find work where she could. She found herself as a regular at a soup kitchen in downtown Brightmoon, when an older woman approached her one afternoon to help her take some supplies from her car, an old, White Toyota, into the kitchen. Adora didn't talk much so she nodded and got up from her seat. She helped this old woman, who told her she could call her Razz, bring in boxes of food into a backdoor of the kitchen. Adora had never seen this much fresh food in her life and Razz noticed how she was mesmerized by the colorful fruits and vegetables. _

_"One of our cooks called out sick this morning, would you be able to help for an hour or two?" Razz asked, glancing towards the girl. It wasn't true, Adora figured out later, but Razz had a tendency to give others opportunities disguised as helping her with something. Adora nods, unsure how to tell her she's never cooked a day in her life._

_"Don't worry dearie, I'll show you everything you need to know," Razz reassures, seeming to read her mind. Razz patiently showed her everything, even though Adora was old enough to know better. They tried different vegetables throughout the process and Adora spent the rest of the day dicing onions, chopping carrots, and stirring a hearty stew that Razz deemed as her favorite dinner. When the stew was done, Adora stayed to serve the patrons, feeling warmer and happier than she had in years. That night after they cleaned up, Razz offered (more like required) Adora to stay in her guest room until she got back on her feet. It took some back and forth, but Adora was exhausted, so she agreed. They drove back to her house, listening to old music as Razz rambled on about what pie she wanted to make later, reassuring Adora that she didn't need anything in return. Adora couldn't help but cry the whole way home, unsure how she was going to pay her back. She tried every day, by cleaning whenever she had a spare second and helping with the garden out back, desperate to earn Razz's kindness, but Adora felt doubtful that she ever will._

“Razz? You awake?” Adora asks softly, quietly opening the door to Razz’s bedroom.

“Mara, dearie, you’re home!” Razz responds enthusiastically, but a little dazed, raising her arms in excitement, despite the rest of her body being tucked snugly in her bed. "I am so excited to make a pie, but first we need to go get the berries!" Razz continues, mumbling off random ingredients while Adora tiredly smiles at her. 

Spinerella comes into view as Adora steps into the bedroom, looking at Adora tenderly. Adora hands the envelope to her, an apologetic look on her face.

“Spinny, I’m so sorry I know I’m late, the match started later and I tried to get here as soon as I could,”

“I know, honey, thank you for this, I know times are tough.” Spinerella replies gently, holding up the envelope. Spinerella and her wife, Netossa, owned a small coffee shop near the soup kitchen that Razz would cook for. They had all been good friends for awhile, so when Razz first started forgetting small things a couple years ago, Spinerella was the first to volunteer to take care of her, helping her when she went to the store or cooked dinner for the kitchen. Adora still felt guilt she wasn't there the whole time, even though Razz practically kicked her out wanting her to live her life. 

“This is the first of hopefully many, I’m gaining traction online and I won the tournament so that technically means I’m pro now –" Adora’s phone interrupts her, as Glimmer’s caller I.D. pops up. “I should probably take this, give me one second?” Adora nearly pleads as she exits the room, answering Glimmer’s call.

“ADORA! Or should I say ... professional kick boxer known as She-Ra! Get your butt over here and come celebrate with us!” Bow giggles in the background and adds, “Adorrrraa! Come on, you did great! You’re amazing! You’re the best kickboxer in all of Brightmoon!”

“Glimmer, I’m… I’m at home now and –“

“C’monnnnn Adora! Just stop by for stay for half an hour, everyone from the gym is here!” Laughter fills the speaker and Adora can hear bits and pieces of Bow sharing a funny story about his dads that she’s heard before.

“I’ll think about it,” Adora says, biting her lip nervously, knowing it was a small lie. She ends the call before Glimmer can protest and returns back into Razz’s room. Spinerella is now standing up, arms crossed as Adora returns.

“You have to go. Even if it’s just for a little bit,” Spinerella insisted, gentleness in her words. “Razz fell asleep while you were on the phone, so how about I stay here tonight? It’s getting late anyways, and I’ll sleep in the guest room.” Before Adora can contest, Spinerella holds up her hand. “Free of charge. Go to your party, Adora. You deserve it.”

“But, Spinny, I – “

“Nope. I already decided. Now go.” Spinerella makes a shooing gesture with her hands and Adora knows better than to refuse her kindness. She’ll just make her breakfast or do something to repay her.

“Spinny, thank you.” Adora gives Razz’s caretaker a hug and kisses Razz’s sleeping forehead. She washes up quickly in the bathroom and stares at herself in the mirror. Her nose is painted with a galaxy of purples, reds, and blues, flowing into the skin under her eyes. She looks like shit, but leaves the bathroom with a sigh, grabbing a hoodie from the other room. She heads out, plopping into her car, and begins the journey back towards Downtown Brightmoon.

The second she steps into the bar, Adora’s nose filled with cheap beer and sweat. The bar was packed with people who’ve been celebrating for more than an hour, most of which were drunk enough and forgot why there to begin with, plus a mix of the bar's Friday Night crowd. She slowly makes her way through the sea of people, currently unnoticed by her friends.

“ADORAA!!” Glimmer catches Adora’s eye from across the room, pushing others out of the way, dragging Bow from the wrist.

Adora attempts to meet them halfway, receiving a few pats on the back and congrats from people she barely recognized.

“Best Friend Squad hug!!” Bow gushed, bringing Adora and Glimmer into a hug. Adora can’t help but smile from her friends’ support. Bow reaches toward Adora's nose that's beginning to bruise, but gets swatted away by Glimmer, a hint of worry in their faces. 

“We can’t believe you’re a pro now! We are so proud of you!” Bow beams, the concerned expression now gone, Glimmer nodding with a hand on her boyfriend's back.

“Thank you, Bow, well I mean technically, but I’m not even sponsored yet so I don’t think it even counts –"

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that Blondie,” a low voice murmured from the crowd.

Adora's head whips around, eyes widen when they recognize the voice. “Huntara! I didn’t think you’d be here!” Adora exclaimed, stepping over and giving her a one armed hug. “Wait. What do you mean?”

“You think I’d miss the celebration of one of my fighters going pro?” Huntara grins as she lightly shoves Adora’s shoulder. “After the match a couple scouts came up to me and offered some pretty good deals. We can talk more about them after training tomorrow, tonight’s for celebrating!” Huntara lifts her beer with a smile, Glimmer and Bow doing the same. Adora raises her arm in unison and heads off to the bar for a drink.

Adora sits down, feeling guilty for already needing a break. _Your friends are doing this all for you. Either suck it up and go socialize or go back to Razz's and tell Spinny to go home._ Her muscles ache and her nose still throbs, exhaustion creeping into her veins. She grabs the bridge of her nose and tries to massage her forehead as her muscles begin to recover from the match. 

She flags down the bartender asking for the cheapest beer, trying to drown out the rowdiness of the surrounding patrons. The bartender slides her a drink, congratulating her on her win. Adora thanks her and turns around, surveying the roaring crowd, dancing to music she could barely hear. She takes a swig of the beer and visibly frowns at the taste. She turns back around to get the bartender's attention for another drink, just as she hears an unfamiliar, but ridiculously low and raspy, “Hey, Adora.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think! I have a lot of plans for this fic so I'd love to hear where you think it's going to go! <3 Also I realize the first three chapters are all over like a three hour period, so hopefully it's not too slow! More time will elapse these next few chapters :) cheers!


	4. Bleed to Love her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra makes her way to the afterparty and finally meets face to face with the kickboxer. Catra actually has a good time but things may have gotten a bit too intense. 
> 
> \- OR - 
> 
> Catra's a big ole lesbian and Adora is a dork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, I know theres been a lot of shit going on in the world, so I hope everyone is feeling okay! Love you all and I appreciate you reading this story! And yes, another Fleetwood Mac song as a title bc why not
> 
> TW: Violence at the beginning, mentions of drugs, child abuse, and anxiety

Catra, in addition to the surrounding audience, visibly recoiled watching Lonnie’s fist slam into Adora’s nose. Her head was violently forced backwards as her body stumbled back into the ropes surrounding the ring, her gloves covered her face. The crowd’s volume rose, many inhaling sharply by the intensity of the blow, as the loud bell rang, signifying the round was over. Catra looked over to her left just in time to see Arrow Boy’s girlfriend, who looks to be about 5’1” on a good day, with her hands clenched at her sides, screaming “FUUUCCCCKKKKKK!” She sits back down in a huff, Arrow Bow rubbing her back, the tension feeling heavy on the four audience members.

Watching Adora get the lights smacked out of her ignited a feeling in Catra’s stomach she couldn’t put into words. Distinguishing if it was a good or a bad feeling was nearly impossible– Catra’s never been one to _really_ understand what the emotional side of her brain was ever doing – but it stirred something deep inside her. If it wasn’t for the intoxicating energy of the crowd, Catra would be drowning this new and uncomfortable feeling she wasn’t familiar with in a bottle of whatever she could get her hands on trying to quiet it down, but something about the match left her, literally, on the edge of her seat. A slight twinge of guilt was _possibly_ present, mainly due to the fact that Catra’s wink was the reason that _ridiculously_ attractive kickboxer was being checked for a concussion, but that wasn’t _supposed_ to happen. Leave it to Catra to have one small wink result in a broken nose.

Despite the small hiccup, Adora seemed to have bounced back from her hit. The referee and another woman met with her immediately after the round, poking around her face, presumably looking to see if she was injured. Soon after, the referee gave a thumbs up to the crowd, resulting in more cheers from the audience in excitement that the match will continue. Adora looked unfazed by the cheers, meeting back up with her trainer and looking frustrated. Catra couldn’t help but chuckle at the kickboxer’s animated arms and the way she furrowed her brow when she looked irritated. She looked closer and saw the beads of sweat slide down her toned arm, her strength more than obvious.

Catra takes back what she has ever said about boxing. Kickboxing matches were _fucking fantastic._ Why has it taken her this long to watch two ridiculously attractive women fight in minimal, tight clothing? Especially when that tree of a blonde is one of the fighters. Catra kicks herself internally for not going sooner, especially when Scorpia had been asking her for months.

The bell rings loudly throughout the stadium, both kickboxers with a determined and fiery look in their eyes. Both have been hit at least once, so it was a pretty fair fight, but Catra knew who she was rooting for.

Both opponents were breathing heavily, sweat glistening on their bodies, unable to land a punch. As they circle each other like prey, she notices a shift in Adora’s demeanor, sometime in the middle of the second round. Catra notices Adora’s laser focus, her mouth slightly open, on her opponent, hungry. Lonnie begins to throw a jab towards Adora’s already bruised face, but before she gets halfway, Adora steps aside powering up her right arm. Adora’s glove smashes one of the hardest punches Catra has ever seen into Lonnie’s cheek, sending her literally _flying_ backwards. Her body hits the mat with a thud, causing the stadium to erupt in cheers and stomps, even Catra managing a small cheer, feeling swept up by the liveliness of the crowd. Scorpia grabs Catra from her seat, lifting her up in her famous strangles.

“Scorpia, I can’t… breathe… let …. go!” Catra manages, she has a _reputation_ , god, but even Scorpia couldn’t deflate the energetic feeling of elation and excitement she felt in support of a blonde she never met, yet deeply wanted to. Sure enough, Mr. and Mrs. Sparkles felt similarly, as they were jumping up and down screaming in delight. Catra couldn’t help but smile as she _quietly_ joined the cheers of “She-Ra! She-Ra!” that filled the stadium. She watched as Adora met up with her trainer and _oh my god she fucking PICKED her up?! She fucking picked up a nearly 7 foot tall jacked up trainer and SPUN her around?!_ Catra’s jaw nearly dropped as the boxer’s muscles highlighted as they strained against the weight of her trainer. She meets back up with the referee at the center of the ring, a grin covering her face, mouthguard and all. The referee grabs her arm and lifts it up, causing the audience to riot once more. Adora jumps around the ring and yells back to the crowd, joining the cheers that were for _her_.

Taking a second to nurse back on her neglected beer, Catra leans back into her chair to avoid looking at the _atrocity_ of Glitter and Arrow Boy’s completely horrible dancing. It was somewhat of a mix of the Dougie on their lower half, and Shopping Cart on the top half. It made Catra almost regret coming. Almost.

“WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU!” The cropped top friend screams towards the tournament winner, continuing to celebrate with his girlfriend and Scorpia. Catra could, if she wanted to, join in, but like she said, she had a reputation to uphold. So, she kept up her unamused glances around the stadium and crossed her legs.

And then she felt a pair of eyes on her and she didn’t even have to turn to know who they belonged to. She decides to put on a show, taking a long, relaxed sip of her beer, before she glanced over towards the beholder. The culprit, two icy blue eyes, feigned obliviousness in an arguably obvious manner, before walking past the stands and her friends. Catra’s eyes attempt to chase her, like seeing her fucking gorgeous smile and stupid hair poof was a breath and she ran out of fresh air. _God that was so fucking gay._ The winning kickboxer disappears into the back of the arena, much to Catra’s dismay.

* * *

After Scorpia’s unrelenting barrage of “Please please please! I’ll never ask for anything ever again!” and “… Adora may be there…” along with wiggling her eyebrows, Catra reluctantly agreed to come to the afterparty. It was ONLY because Scorpia was her ride there and she was not in a place to splurge on an uber right now. That was the only reason. Okay, and maybe to get her mind off of her meeting with her disgusting excuse of an old foster mom who still continues to hold her financially, professionally, and emotionally hostage. Those were the only two possible reasons. Mmhmm.

The drive in Scorpia’s beat up Kia Soul, _egch,_ which was more than compact due to Scorpia taking up basically the whole driver’s seat and center console, was mainly uneventful. Scorpia rambled about her most recent date with Perfuma and Catra contributed a “mmhmm” and maybe a small “wow” where appropriate, because she wasn’t _horrible_ , but Catra couldn’t stop thinking about the wide, kind blue eyes burned in her retina. She’s had her fair share of one-night stands, a couple month long “relationships”, if you could even call it that, but Catra’s known she’s had to keep her distance. No one would really understand her situation, so no need to open up. No one has even bothered to break that distance, anyways, so she “don’t fix what ain’t broke”, or however the saying goes. Or something like that. Plus, Ms. Weaver herself was never shy in telling Catra she’ll never amount to anything. But she couldn’t fight off the feeling of hope and excitement that the kickboxer may be at the afterparty. I mean, it is a party for her anyways, and let’s be real, Catra owed her a drink for that nasty hit that she was more or less responsible for.

They had to part decently far away from the bar, as it was a Friday night in a popular part of town. Taking a deep breath in, Catra steps out of the car, cold air assaulting any inch of her unexpecting exposed skin. She audibly hisses at the feeling, not exactly knowing why she didn’t just turn around and call a cab home to her nice warm bed. Maybe it was just a good day. _Haven’t had one of those in a while._

Stepping into the building, the bar had a rustic, hipster atmosphere with warm lights lining the ceiling over the bartender, which faded into more colorful lights that lined the walls toward a small stage and dance floor. There were variously booths lining the room as well, most of them occupied. Groups pictures covered the wall behind the bar table, with a pride flag hung above the various beer taps. The bartender was about as stereotypical as anyone could imagine, a black apron tied at their waist with a short sleeve white button-down shirt. The right side of their head was shaved and had a couple of piercings, so Catra would have been interested if it wasn’t for a particular blonde individual taking up 80% of her brain space.

Scorpia grabs her hand and Catra reluctantly follows, it’s not like she had a choice exactly, Scorpia could’ve just as easily carried her over her shoulder like a backpack if she wanted to. Weaving through the masses, all Catra could think about was the kickboxer with the most radiant smile.

“Scorpia! And Catra! So glad you two could make it!” Bow said, a ridiculously large grin plastered across his face. He held a bright, pink drink in a short glass, two strawberries placed on the rim.

“Bow! Glimmer! Oh wow we are so glad to be here! I’m sad Perfuma was unable to make it but I am so excited my best friend is here! Catra rarely goes out,” Scorpia nudges her roommate, smiling her big smile of hers, resulting in displeased, but somewhat friendly grunt from Catra.

“Catra, I LOVE your outfit, maroon looks so good on you!” Bow beams, gesturing towards her top. Catra chuckles, somewhat uncomfortable from the compliment from people she had just met. “I’m aware,” She teases, resulting in a stare from the girlfriend. In honor of getting to know Adora’s fan club, Catra ignores the look and attempts to keep the conversation going with her more _friendly_ counterparts. “Whatchya got there? Looks like a unicorn threw up in a glass.” She gestures towards Bow’s drink.

Bow and Scorpia erupt in laughter, leaving Catra slightly confused as to what they were laughing at. “Pink Vodka lemonade! It’s soooo good! It brings me back to college, plus its ridiculously alcoholic but you can’t even taste it! So it’s a bit dangerous. Adora’s not allowed to have one actually, she’s too much of a lightweight.” Bow and Glitter laugh, sharing knowing looks between themselves. “I’m actually just about to go get another, would any of you two like one?”

“Uhhh … I’m good. Could you get me a rum and Coke instead?”

“Could just you get me a beer? I’m driving home tonight!” Scorpia adds as Bow nods and leaves the group.

The next half hour goes by slowly. _Wow you’re really enduring a lot just to hopefully see a girl you’ve never met._ She scoffs to herself. _You’re so fucking touch starved you’re really just going to stake out a bar for the possibility of attention?_ Catra excuses herself to go sit at a booth for a breather, she heard enough about how _flexible_ Scorpia’s soulmate is. She takes a couple breaths and decides now is as good of a time as ever to think about her upcoming job with her disgusting excuse for an old foster mother.

She’d been doing jobs for her ever since the incident. Shadow Weaver never failed to remind her of it, and that she will continue to have jobs for her for an undetermined amount of time. She also continuously reminds Catra of what will happen if she _doesn’t_ do a job perfectly or even outright refuses. Catra shudders at the thought. She hates, _viscerally hates_ , that Shadow Weaver still has this power over her, but after years of experience she knew that fighting her would just make it worse. She _did_ get Catra her actual job, although she's always quick to mention how she can easily take it away with a phone call. 

It was nearing 12:30am. Catra tried her best to fight her gnawing irritation, another part of her arguing that she had nothing better to do. She still had three and a half hours until the job, where she had a meet a runner at a random park bench, pick up a package, and then hail a cab to a location she won’t know beforehand to drop it off. She’s never questioned what’s in the bags she gets, she knows better than that, somehow Shadow Weaver would know. She seemed to have eyes everywhere. But she can’t help but wonder what’s in them and of what possible crime she’s aiding. She hopes it’s not anything too horrible, something like low scale drugs or something, and not anything more serious. Catra dabbled in various psychedelics or some weed when she needed some inspiration, or just wanted to lounge. Sue her. But the gnawing thought that she was just as bad as her pathetic excuse for a guardian would never truly cease. 

* * *

Catra was nearing her third rum and Coke, her anticipation to meet the reason she was there was rising. Just as her lack of patience almost gets the best of her, she hears a high pitch squeal that could belong to none other than Mrs. Sparkles.

“ADORAA!!” Catra glances towards the open space in the middle of the room, watching the group as they hug and celebrate the kickboxer. Catra didn’t know a whole lot about the kickboxing world, but from what she picked up on from other patrons, Adora was now considered professional. That seemed like a big deal. Catra wondered how long she had working towards it, and what it meant for her now. Going against all her past instincts, all she wanted to do was ask and hear about it. _Oh my god. I don’t even know what her voice sounds like._ Catra’s palm automatically smacks her forehead, embarrassed by the budding interest in someone she literally has yet to meet. _Stupid._

Catra peers beyond her arm, drawn towards Adora and her group of friends. The kickboxer had her back towards Catra’s booth, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders from her ponytail. She wore a grey sleeveless hoodie, and _of course_ it looked amazing. The way her shoulders escaped the sweatshirt was intoxicating, even more so than the multiple empty glasses strewn across the booth Catra was still sitting at. _Adora_. Catra softly says her name, noticing how easily it slides off her tongue.

Adora parts away from the group and Catra notices how her smile immediately falters once her friends can no longer see her face. As she makes her way to the bar, Catra takes the chance.

She approaches slowly, careful not to come on too strong. Taking her time to walk there, she lets Adora order her drink, wanting it to seem natural. _Shit. Do I say her name or is that weird?_ Catra scrambles for an answer but is sidetracked as she sees the blonde’s face visibly twist when she takes a sip of her beer. Catra quickly covers her mouth with a hand, careful not to laugh out loud at this girl, who obviously hated her drink. She approaches the bar and with all the confidence she can muster (plus the alcohol in three drinks, give or take), she goes for it.

“Hey, Adora.”

The blonde turns toward the noise, a mixture of surprise and exhaustion immediately covering her face. Her mouth opens slightly as they make eye contact, keeping the stare for a couple seconds.

“Oh. Oh! Hey! I’m Adora!” A bright smile plasters the blonde’s face, sticking out an arm towards Catra. “Or, I guess you knew that, sorry,” she continues with a nervous laugh. Catra takes her hand, shaking it softly, taking in the feeling of her hands. They were big, but not too big, and felt _strong_. She could feel the calloses around her palm, adding a rough but smooth texture. It felt warm.

“I noticed you didn’t like your drink,” Catra points to the nearly full pint resting on the bar. “And since some might say I’m could be the reason for your shiner there, I was wondering if I could buy you another one.” She points at the girl’s nose, ending the sentence with a smile she didn’t even have to force.

Adora laughs, _fuck, her laugh,_ tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Catra’s eyes follow her chin and her neck, following her exposed collarbones that poke out the top of the sweatshirt. Even in a sweatshirt, an hour or so after an intense fight, she looked _hot_.

“If you buy me a drink can you at least tell me your name?” Adora asks, one of her eyebrows raised playfully.

“Catra.”

“ _Catra._ ” Adora repeats her name, digesting it. “I like it.”

“So, what’s your poison?”

“Well, I was just going to get a beer and then… you know what try this and tell me it doesn’t taste like a bitter piece of dirt.” Adora slides her beer towards Catra.

“Wow, Miss Pro Boxer can’t even have one beer?” Catra teases as she brings the cup to her lips. She takes a sip, careful not to break their eye contact. “You know what. I take it back. What the fuck is this? It tastes like piss!”

“See I told you!” Adora laughs again, _God, her laugh,_ “Part of me knows I should probably stick with water tonight, because you know, I train tomorrow, but another part of me just wants a goddamn drink that doesn’t taste like nasty leather!” Catra watches the girl ramble and emphasize with her hands, _she probably makes pro con lists all day long. What a dork,_ she thought humorously.

“Let me tell you what,” Catra places her hand softly over Adora’s, bringing her back. “I’ll get you a drink I think you’ll like, and you can tell me more about this insane training schedule of yours.” Catra smiles, genuinely looking forward to hearing about it. Adora’s face erupts in a grin, this time with no mouthguard to hide her dazzling teeth. She nods, possibly too eagerly, but Catra doesn’t care. Honestly, she can feel herself blushing with the thought that someone is that excited to sit and talk with her. 

Catra flags down the bartender, leaning into her ear while looking back and holding eye contact with the kickboxer. The stare is inebriating itself and Catra nearly forgets the order while getting lost in Adora’s defining features. She whispers a couple words and leans back, one arm on the bar top.

“Wait. You won a whole tournament like an hour ago and you don’t even get an off day?” Catra raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story but I uhhh…” Adora squints a little, furrowing her brow, struggling to find the words. “I can’t. I have to keep at it, ya know?” She looks hopefully at the other girl, hoping she didn’t get too serious. “Gotta keep up with these gains!” Adora recovers, flexing her bicep in the most Dude Bro way possible, accompanied with a nervous laugh. Catra laughs, genuinely laughs, at her dorkiness and tries to hide the ways her eyes hungrily observe her muscles. _I mean, she_ was _flexing._ A beat passes before Catra says something.

“Why do you have to keep at it?” Catra says it before thinking about it, almost slapping her hand against her lips. She slowly turns toward the kickboxer, gauging to see if she was weirded out by the advance. Her anxious monkey brain gets to the best of her. “Sorry, you totally don’t have to talk about it I was just curious.”

“It’s uhh … more of a serious, sitting down conversation, and I haven’t even… oh my god I haven’t even asked about you! What do you do?” Catra accepts the change of topic, she knows the tactic all too well. In an effort of good faith, she goes with it.

“Ah. The million-dollar question. Officially, I’m an assistant to an art director across the city but _god_ I hate it. He’s a total dick. Friend of my uh… mother. I know it’s _technically_ good for my career, but having to make calls and put on a polite customer service voice? That’s pure ass.” She pauses when she hears Adora laugh, savoring the sound for as long as she could. “I want to have my own studio one day. Maybe teach classes to at-risk youth in the city.” She continues, more timid than before, realizing she had never told another soul those words. “But, uh, we’ll see. It’s whatever.”

“Catra!” Adora seems to light up at the vulnerability, “Catra. That’s not ‘whatever’, that’s _really_ cool. Especially for kids who need it. What type of art do you do?”

Catra smiles, feeling her chest warm up at the possibility of someone being interested. Someone who _cares_. Maybe it’s the drink, or maybe it’s the girl, but she doesn’t hear the all too expected thought: _but do you deserve it?_ She swallows the feeling, she can deal with it later.

“Various different types. I like sculpting and pottery, but it’s hard to pay the bills that way. Especially when you’re just starting out, so I uh, do portraits. On the side.”

Adora smiles at her. Like _really_ smiles at her, and despite her big fat bruise sprawled across her face, Catra can’t help but admit it’s the best smile she’s ever seen. It’s a bit lopsided, with the right side of her mouth raising higher than the left and _it’s fucking adorable._

The bartender interrupts their moment, sliding Adora a short drink with a straw.

“Catra, that’s really cool you do all that art. I’ve never been good at any of that, I think my hands are too big.” She raises her hands, inspecting them with curiosity, following by a small chuckle. All Catra wanted to do was continue to make her laugh for as long as humanly possible.

“Hey, those hands worked great an hour ago! How does it feel?”

“How does… what feel?”

“To win! To beat the shit out of someone! To be a professional kickboxer!” _That was WAY too enthusiastic, moron._ Catra did her best not to show how nervous she was. _When was the last time I was nervous just talking to a girl?_

“I uh. I don’t know.” She seemed… unsure. Her confident persona from the match was in the past, the blonde in front of her seemed _tired_. Catra felt a twinge of … _sympathy_? Although the other girl hadn’t exactly opened up, in fact she sat there trying her best to hide any suffering with a smile, Catra could tell what she felt, at least to some degree.

“I used to love it.” She smiled softly at the bar top, averting Catra’s eyes. “But now it feels like something I have to do. I just hope it’s enough.” She exhales a big breath, taking a sip of her untouched drink. She raises her head to meet back up and meet Catra’s gaze. “Whew! That was intense, sorry! I also –“

“Hey.” Catra grabs her hand, unsure what exactly compelled her to do so. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Adora looks up from her fumble, relief apparent in the soft smile she gave Catra. “Thank you.” She takes a breath and takes another sip of her drink. “I hadn’t exactly said that out loud before. I just have been working towards this for months now and I used to love it, but I haven’t really let myself enjoy it lately. I love the drink, by the way, what is it?”

“I get that. And it’s a secret. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. _If_ you’re nice.” Catra teases with a smirk.

“Hey! I’m nice!” She replies, pushing Catra’s shoulder in a playful way. “Hey!” Catra pushes her back, harder, a hint of fire in her eyes.

“Be careful, Catra, I am a _professional_ kickboxer now!”

“Oh yeah? That won’t keep me from kicking your ass, you dork!” Catra steps away from the bar and widens her stance and Adora mirrors her. Keeping eye contact, Catra winks. Again.

“Oh my god. You really think that’s going to work again, don’t you?”

“It worked the first time, right? And you take me as someone who needs to experience something a couple times to get it in your thick skull of yours.” Doubt fills Catra’s mind, she meant it to be playful, but she wonders if she took it too far. Adora’s outburst of laughter releases that doubt, the contagious nature of her laugh taking over Catra. They stand there laughing too hard at something not _that_ funny, possibly with the help of alcohol (Bow did say she was a lightweight). The laughter dies down and Catra sees Adora wipe a tear from her eye.

“How did boxing used to make you feel?”

“What?”

“You mentioned you used to love kickboxing. How did it used to feel?”

Adora takes a breath, pondering the question. She looks towards the ceiling for guidance, once again exposing her neck. _Not the time you horny bastard._

“It used to be such a release, you know? Like there was nothing better than having a hard day and just punching it out for an hour or two on a bag. It’s weird, but it was like… meditating. All the bad things on my mind, any anxieties or worries, were gone the second I stepped into the ring. The challenge of fighting someone _just_ as talented as you was so exhilarating. And now I -“ She stops, taking a second, scrunching up her face. “I feel so ungrateful because this is what I wanted, right?”

“I’m not sure, Adora. Is it?”

She grabs her drink and takes a couple sips, eyes locked on the floor. “I’m not sure. But I have to. I’m sorry Catra I –“ Adora straightens up quickly and grabs her things. “I need a second.” And then she was gone.

_Fuck._ Catra knew that was way too intense. _Now you fucking ruined it. Nice job._

Catra sighed as she saw Adora make her way through the crowd, headed for the exit once she said her goodbyes to her friends. Glancing at her phone, Catra realizes it was 45 minutes before her job for shadow weaver. Had they really talked for an hour? It felt like 10 minutes. She felt like she could keep talking to her for hours.

The park she was supposed to meet at was coincidentally a couple miles away, so Catra figured walking would be a good way to get her mind off of what just went wrong. She pays the bartender and somehow convinces Scorpia she doesn’t need a ride home and makes her way out of the bar.

She steps out, seeming to have forgotten how sobering the cold air was. Knowing standing still was probably the worst thing she could do in the cold, she keeps moving. With her head down to conserve the cold, she almost misses the crying coming from the alleyway beside the bar. Curiosity gets the best of her as she steals a glance, taking a double take as she recognizes a familiar golden ponytail poking out on top of a figure with their knees to their chest.

“ _Adora_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOoooooooooooo what's going to happen next?! Will Catra miss her job and get in trouble with Weaver? Will Adora handle the pressure and find healthy coping mechanisms? 
> 
> Let me know what you think! <3


	5. Toeing the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra consoles Adora through a panic attack and Adora struggles to deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends! Hope everything is doing well in this crazy time. Somethings to clear up:
> 
> \- I have no experience with professional boxing or kickboxing, the information in this fic is from research/me just making shit up lol! From what I've found, it's not a super exciting ~ceremony~ to go pro in kickboxing, basically if you get paid for it you're a professional.
> 
> \- I also have very minimal experience with a family member having Alzheimer's, so I'm just writing what feels right for me
> 
> \- I have successfully planned out the rest of the fic and I'm anticipating it to be around 16 chapters! This is not set in stone but we shall see :)
> 
> \- I really appreciate everyone who has left comments or kudos, it makes me so happy!
> 
> For some reason this chapter was hard for me to write, so I may edit it at later date. I know it's a bit choppy, but I was done trying to fix it lol
> 
> TW: Intense depiction of a panic attack and some mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms (over exercise)
> 
> Cheers!

Finally being able to put a name to those beautiful mismatched eyes was nothing short of amazing. Adora can’t remember the last time she laughed, like _really_ laughed with someone, especially someone she just met. She kept noticing the little things, like the way Catra’s laugh was contagious and the way she lifted her left eyebrow and tilted her chin up when she was flirting, almost like a challenge. And how she was an artist. Catra was subtle about it, but Adora could tell she loved it. The fact that she could do sculpting, pottery, and portraits?! Adora didn’t know a whole lot about the art world but those seemed wildly different and would require difference skillsets. After she heard that, Adora tried her best not to seem obvious in imagining Catra wearing nothing but a pottery apron, clay everywhere, her hair thrown back in a bandana… but the bartender _thankfully_ interrupts her drooling, and Adora hoped Catra didn’t notice her off in a daydream.

Surprisingly, Catra’s confident exterior wasn’t intimidating or daunting, it was encouraging. Adora felt like they had been friends for years. They fed off each other’s energy in the best way possible, they were nearly about to wrestle like they were kids. Talking to her made everything else fade away, like it was only them. It was like nothing bad in Adora’s life could hurt her. It was going amazing. Until it wasn’t.

The weeks before the tournament, Adora could feel the creeping buildup of emotions that she had been working desperately to shove deep down and deal with later. She didn’t expect _later_ to be tonight, and _really_ didn’t expect later to be during a conversation with a brilliantly beautiful woman she really wanted to get to know. Catra seemed genuinely interested in her story, her life, and _her_ , which was exciting yet terrifying. Someone cared enough to ask, but did they really care enough to hear the answer?

It wasn’t how it was supposed to go. One second, she was nearly crying from laughter and the next she felt like she was genuinely suffocating. Adora’s throat immediately started to tighten when Catra asked what she wanted. It was a seemingly simple question, but Adora made the mistake of verbalizing a doubt she’s been too scared to even _think_ of, and before she knows it, she’s fumbling for words, still in shock by how quickly a panic attack had snuck in. With all the strength she had, she told Catra she needed a second and leaves, scowling at the fact she left the most striking girl who just wanted to know what she wanted.

Getting a breath of fresh air, was in fact, not at all helpful. Now she was alone, the cold breeze in the middle of the night constricting her body even more. Of _course_ she grabbed the only hoodie without sleeves in her rush out of Razz’s house, even though she knew it made her arms look good and there was a particular _someone_ she _maybe_ wanted to show off for. And now that _someone_ was left in the dust due to Adora not being able to handle a simple question. _Fuck._

Adora’s hands start to shake as her trembling breath picks up its pace. Embarrassment floods her body as she sees someone smoking a cigarette, watching her. She manages a small smile and walks the opposite direction, stepping into the alley on the side of the bar. It’s riddled with trash and crates, but at least there’s no one here to watch her make a fool out of herself.

Adora brings her hands up to her face, trying to shield out the world. Backing up to the brick wall behind her, she slides down to the ground bringing her knees to her face. The memories of many nights like this, but often in much worse places, come flooding back in, fueling Adora’s cries. _Why can’t I be happy? I have so much more than I used to have. Isn’t this what I wanted?_

Those words circle around her mind as she falls deeper and deeper into the overpowering feelings of guilt, shame, and just being completely overwhelmed. _What if I can’t make enough money and Spinny gets tired of me? What if I turn out to be a horrible kickboxer and embarrass my friends and the gym? Why can’t I focus on doing the things I need to do? What if I’m not enough for Razz? What if I’m not enough for anyone?_

It felt like all the emotions she was trying so hard to fight, the nervousness, the inadequacy, the fear, was all trying to escape after being ignored for too long and there was nothing she could do to stop it. They erupted outward, resulting in uncontrollable sobs that needed to be acknowledged.

Adora doesn’t know how long she spirals before she thinks hears her name being called out. She can barely hear anything besides her roaring heartbeat, pounding so fast in her ears she just wanted to scream to hear something else. She attempts to lift her head to look towards the voice, but her eyesight was blurry from her tears and there was no way she could distinguish who it was. Fear gets added to her long list of emotions, resulting in even more adrenaline into her bloodstream. The person is getting closer to Adora and she’s still unable to recognize them. Being in too many similar instances, her body reverts to muscle memory and is powered into fight mode.

“Don’t get near me, I … I don’t want to hurt you!” Adora shouts blindly in the alley, hoping her voice didn’t represent how scared and overwhelmed she felt.

“Adora, hey, it’s me. Catra? From the bar?”

Adora’s shoulders slightly relax at a familiar voice, and then tighten back up when she realizes who it was. _The_ Catra. The one that Adora spent an hour trying to flirt with and wanted to take out on an actual date. Of _course_ she just verbally threatened the one girl who she actually liked.

Everything just keeps piling up and feels so loud in her head, it was hard to even know where she was.

She digs her eyes deeper into her knees, barely feeling the pain from her bruised nose. She feels … detached, like her head is away from her body rattling with worries, responsibilities, and feelings too big and loud to name. Like everything is happening too fast but also not in tune with what’s around her. Her mind moves away from Catra so quick she forgets she’s there.

“Adora? It’s Catra,” The girl repeats, taking cautious steps toward Adora. “I’m going to come sit next to you, okay? What’s wrong?” Adora manages a mumble as Catra sits down next to her, her head still resting on her knees, unable to slow her breathing.

“S-sorry I-“ Adora starts, mumbling into her knees and barely audible.

“Hey, hey. Adora, it’s okay, okay? I get panic attacks too sometimes. So I want you to take all that embarrassment and throw it out the window okay? Because there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So look at me and let’s breathe, okay? Would that help?”

Adora nods her head and slowly looks toward the other girl. She sees Catra’s brow furrowed slightly, one hand lightly moving up and down on Adora’s exposed arm. She tries her best to focus on the movement of Catra’s soft hand when Adora realizes she’s shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was the cold, the lack of oxygen, or the adrenaline being sent from an overactive part of her brain. Either way, it fueled the relentless thought that Adora was pathetic and pitiful, and didn’t deserve this kind, confident woman to spend her Friday night consoling her through a panic attack.

Just as Adora was about to tell her to go, she feels the weight of a smooth, yet already warm, leather jacket on her shoulders. Adora pries her arms from around her shins and silently slips on the jacket, focusing on the comforting warmth on her skin.

“I’m going to keep rubbing your arm up and down, so try and match your breathing with my hand, okay? I’ll do it with you, up for three and down for three, got it?”

Adora nods, letting herself feel the soft pressure of Catra’s hand brush up her arm, and then back down. After some time, her shallow gasps slow, gradually working towards Catra’s pace. She doesn’t know how long she is there, all she knows is that Catra stayed, sitting next to her patiently.

“I’m going to open up my phone to the stopwatch, try to inhale for five seconds then exhale for five seconds, does that sound okay?” Adora, being the perfectionist she is even despite an intense panic attack, nods and takes the phone. She notices the sweatiness of her palms and wipes them on her pants, hoping it wasn’t obvious.

“Can I see your phone real quick?” Catra asks softly. Adora mindlessly hands it to her, focusing on the phone in front of her. “I’ll be right back, okay? I promise I’ll be back.” Adora barely hears Catra’s words as she gets up and walks towards the entrance of the alley. She peers over at Catra, who seems to be calling someone from Adora’s phone, and she can’t help but miss the warmth of Catra’s hand on her arm.

Adora focuses back on the timer in front of her. _Five in, five out_. Her trembling inhales start to gradually level out, her mind quieting as well. Catra makes her way back to Adora’s side, sitting together with their arms touching. They stay that way for a couple minutes, matching each other’s breathing. Adora’s shaking slows to a stop and she turns to face the woman next to her.

“Catra, I’m so sor-“ Adora starts, guilt working its way back into her mind, before she is interrupted by someone she is equally relieved and displeased to see.

“Adora!” Glimmer yells as she races toward her, Bow not far behind. Catra stands up, leaving Adora’s side, much to her dismay. Glimmer grabs Catra’s arm, now bare, and pulls her aside while Bow crouches down to where Adora is sitting.

“Adora, are you okay?” Bow says with an alarmed look on his face, his voice squeaking as he asks.

“Hi, Bow, yeah. I-I’m okay.”

“What happened, Adora?”

“I think I’m just tired, Bow, seriously I’m fine. I just need a good night’s sleep or something.”

Bow rubs her shoulder supportively, visibly noticing the new jacket, but it was nothing like Catra’s comforting, kind touch Adora already misses. Bow could tell she wasn't interested in talking right now, which Adora appreciated. She peers toward the duo standing towards the entrance of the alley, her hands flailing wildly, a tell-tale sign of Glimmer’s frustration. _Why is she frustrated with Catra?_ She watches as the two voices increase in volume, although still too quiet to hear from where she was. _Why are they having an argument?_ Glimmer snatches something from Catra and turns around towards Adora, leaving Catra’s figure standing with a streetlamp behind her, looking like a silhouette. Her fists tighten then release, and then she’s gone.

“Adora!” Glimmer crouches down and throws her arms around Adora’s neck. “I was so worried! What happened? What did Catra do? I _knew_ she was bad news, didn’t I Bow?”

“What-why would you think Catra did anything?”

“You were talking with her and then all the sudden you’re having a panic attack? Adora that hasn’t happened like that in years. Plus, she was just plain rude.” Glimmer leans back from her hug and crosses her arms childishly. She hands Adora back her phone, which she must have gotten back from Catra.

“Glimmer, that’s not what hap-“

“We’re just so glad you’re okay! Come here!” Glimmer reaches forward to give Adora another hug which Adora barely reciprocates, feeling slightly disoriented but too tired to argue. Bow and Glimmer help her to stand.

“Thank you both, I think I’m just going to head home. I could use some sleep.” Adora yawns for emphasis, hoping her best friends are trusting enough to let her go. She’s used to downplaying whatever she’s feeling around them, they worry about her too much. She doesn’t _want_ to actively lie to them, but it’s better this way.

“Adora, are you sure? You can spend the night over at me and Glimmer’s place?”

“I’m sure, Bow, thank you. I love you both so much.” This time it’s Adora leaning in for a hug, desperate to end the barrage of attention and get to her car. She slips out of the hug, making her way out of the alley and towards the street.

“I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow!” Bow and Glimmer both frown slightly as Adora leaves, glancing at each other with knowing looks.

The second Adora steps into her car, this time she allows herself to let go. She doesn’t know how long she cries, but her shirt was damp, and her eyes stung.

When she gets back to Razz’s, she falls asleep in her room, not even bothering to change her clothes. The exhaustion of her day and the lingering smell of Catra and sandlewood on her jacket, lulls her into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, training could be described by nothing other than brutal. Adora got there thirty minutes before her session with Huntara, coasting on no more than three hours of sleep, and opened the gym. She can normally operate on four or five hours of sleep a night, but this morning felt particularly ruthless, like she was walking around with thirty-pound weights attached at her every limb.

Adora tried her best to make some semblance of breakfast for Spinny before she left, but she has never been one to be good at cooking, especially without Razz’s guidance.

The weight of Razz’s condition weighted heavily on her this morning, her mind bringing her back to making every type of dinner and dessert imaginable in the big soup kitchen. Razz would spew advice that Adora never asked for, but was always exactly what she needed to hear.

Adora’s never really been one to be distracted during training sessions, she doesn’t want to waste Huntara’s time, but it was nearly impossible this morning. Being distracted only fueled Adora’s guilt and anxiety, leading to more and more preoccupied thoughts, in a vicious unrelenting cycle. Their training session today was surrounded around cardio, to loosen up Adora’s muscles after her fight last night, so at least Adora could channel her loud thoughts into pushing her body, making it stronger. Admittedly, it was one of the only ways she could cope with some thoughts. Adora knew it wasn't the best way to deal with her emotions, but sometimes distraction was all that she could handle. 

Remembering Catra’s warm hand slide up and down made Adora smile to herself, and oddly enough, she didn’t feel as much embarrassment as she would’ve expected. Catra made her feel unusually comfortable, even though they had known each other only an hour. _But it’s not going to happen. She literally_ ran _away afterwards, remember?_ She frowns. _Why did she run away?_ Before her thoughts can spiral once again, she increases the treadmill speed and focuses on her breath while her thoughts float away, replaced by the meditative sound of her feet thumping into the track of the treadmill. 

Following her cardio workout and some light work in the ring, she found her way into the locker room. She sneaks a glance at herself in the mirror, almost surprised by how she looks. To put it lightly, she looks like _shit_. The bruise originating at her nose poured into the space under her eyes, consisting of a mix of purples and pinks. Her face seemed to droop downwards, more so than normal, probably due to her lack of sleep. Her normally pristine ponytail was loose, some strands framing her face. Staring into the mirror, Adora could barely recognize herself. _Is this how I looked last night with Catra?_ Her mouth opens slightly in horror, hoping, for the love of god, she looked more presentable last night than she did at this moment. _Well, it doesn’t matter anyways. She ran away. She doesn’t want you, why would she? You’re a mess._ Adora sighs, accepting defeat at the hands of herself deprecating inner monologue, and showers, trying to get Catra’s enchanting laugh out of her head.

* * *

“We got three sponsorship offers last night Blondie, which is pretty amazing, especially since you’ve only had a couple of actual matches. Like you know, you won the tournament so you’re now considered a Professional Kickboxer now! It must be because you got such a great trainer.” Huntara leans over and pushes Adora playfully, happiness glowing from her smile as she looks down at her trainee. Adora offers a smile and pushes her back, grateful for Huntara’s semblance of normalcy.

“You don’t need to decide today, or even in the next few days, I know this is a big decision. Each company has different values and goals, plus they’re offering different levels of compensation. It could possibly mean you won’t have to work this desk and could spend more time training! I’ll send you the details later tonight!” Before Adora can reply, Huntara returns back to the floor of the gym, leaving Adora to her thoughts at the front desk.

Adora really liked Brightmoon Fitness ever since Razz got her a job as “Cleaning Custodian” four years ago. Razz was friends with the owner, Angella, and she knew that Adora wouldn’t accept a better job for fear that she didn’t deserve it. Adora also hadn’t minded cleaning, her previous foster home was borderline militaristic in standards for cleanliness, so it was now a force of habit. It was often mindless, where Adora could find solace scrubbing the floor instead of ruminating on a stupid thing she said over and over again in her head.

She was very quiet those first couple weeks and tried her best to stay unnoticed. She often worked weird hours in order to volunteer at Razz’s Kitchen for lunch and dinner, which meant staying undetected was easy. She was also not the best at making friends, her experience in the foster care system made it clear that any relationships, friendship or otherwise, was temporary. So, it was better to stay undetected and under the radar.

Adora stayed that way until about a month into working there. She went into one of the group exercise rooms to mop after a class, but found an employee crying in the corner of the room. Adora hadn’t met the rest of the crew officially, as she requested, so she wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

Adora wasn’t the best at consoling people, she’s been out of practice for most of her life, so she planned to leave him alone, but he had heard her walk in. He turned around and his eyes were bloodshot. They stood there, both looking like deer in headlights, before he spoke.

“Hi. I’m Bow, I don’t think we’ve actually met.” Despite his appearance, he had the kindest smile and seemed to radiate warmth. Adora had seen him around the gym, mainly from a distance, and had always wondered why he always cut the gym-issued t-shirt for trainers into crop tops. He approached Adora with a hand outstretched, wiping his cheeks with his other palm.

“Adora. Are you okay?” She winced at how direct her question was, but Bow didn’t seem to notice. He sighed, and began to explain his frustration with his dads, who were upset with his lack of interest in pursuing a career in their library they owned and managed. Adora tried her best to validate his feelings and show she was listening, but it was difficult to relate to his experience. Just listening proved to be enough though, as once he finished his mood improved dramatically. They talked briefly about work and other superficial things before they both had to get back to work, and Adora couldn't wipe a smile from her face afterwards. 

Bow proved to be a really great friend. He was filled with positivity and saw the bright side of things, which was often helpful for Adora and her anxiety-filled brain. He was supportive and never judgmental, and most importantly, he never pried for past details of her life. He listening in the rare moments Adora wanted to talk, but never got upset when Adora didn’t. Bow also introduced her to his girlfriend who also worked at the gym and even included Adora in the “Best Friends Squad”.

It initially made Adora uncomfortable, being apart of a _squad_ , mainly due to never being apart of one, but ultimately got used to it after months of them basically never leaving her alone. Glimmer was a spitfire who was one of the most hot and cold person she had ever met, and could be quite passive aggressive at times, but was also very supportive of Adora and her ventures. They both went to every one of her kickboxing matches, and Glimmer would easily be the loudest one in the arena. 

Glimmer was Angella’s daughter and a personal trainer, which Adora thought was initially comical given her bright hair and the fact that she was quite short, but she was actually highly sought after due to her borderline hostile training style. Bow taught various fitness classes including some cycling classes and jazzercise, a new class they just started offering. It fit him and his bubbly personality rather well.

All of them would often meet up when they worked together, gossiping over obnoxious members and catching up on family drama. Despite how different they were, especially in their upbringings, Adora would do anything for them. However, it was always difficult when they felt the need to coddle her, as if she wasn’t a _mostly_ functional adult.

Glancing at the clock on her computer, she realizes it was almost time for their shift. Angella often scheduled them together so they could carpool, and Adora couldn't tell if Angella was just _that_ nice or there was some nepotism involved. Either way, it made the very exciting work of a front desk receptionist at the gym more interesting.

* * *

“Adora? Are you fucking kidding me?” Glimmers words puncture Adora’s daydream, bringing her back to the very exciting life of checking people into a gym. She opens her mouth slightly, feeling disoriented by the premature end to her and Catra’s dream wedding – _Oh my god, Adora, it’s NEVER going to happen_ – slightly taken aback by Glimmer’s aggressive interrogation.

“Well good morning to you too.” Adora mutters, glancing at Bow who gives her an apologetic look.

“What Glimmer _meant_ to say, was why are you at work Adora? You should’ve taken a personal day or something, Angella would have totally understood!” Bow smiles, a hint of concern in his voice.

“You guys, _seriously_ , I’m fine. The last thing I need is nothing to do.” Glimmer huffs and tries to hide her eye roll. Adora looks back at the computer in front of her, typing random keys in hopes that her friends won’t ask anymore questions.

“Okay, well what if you came over tonight and had a movie night! Glimmer and I can get popcorn and our favorite snacks, plus you can even pick the movie!” Bow basically explodes with enthusiasm as he looks at Adora expectantly.

“I can’t. I told Spinny I’d let her have the night, so I have to be with Razz tonight. I’m sorry,” Adora glances toward Bow who visibly deflates. Seeing Bow like that always hit a soft spot, so she continues, “but what about Sunday night? I work in the morning but then I’m free?” Bow grabs Glimmers arm and jumps up and down.

“Sounds AMAZING! Best Friend Squad Movie Night!” Bow drags Glimmer around the front desk to assault Adora in a tight, but appreciated, hug. Even Glimmer smiles, despite her motherly frustration with Adora’s inability to take care of herself in the healthiest way.

Adora was the one to break up the hug, as much as she appreciated their enthusiasm and constant worry, it could feel overpowering at times.

“Well I should probably respond to some emails, but have a good shift you two! Love you and see you tomorrow! Movie night!” She gathers as much energy she had, which wasn’t much, but tried to be as excited as possible. Her friends matched it, walking away from the front desk towards the locker room, while Adora releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

Adora tried her best to keep her mind occupied, but the thoughts of Catra kept barreling over any attempts at focusing on inventory reporting, answering the phone, or any other random tasks her job required of her. She felt physically heavy with conflicting emotions. On one hand, Adora felt like she connected with Catra more than anyone else in _years_ , and on the other, Adora broke down in front of her and she didn’t even say goodbye afterwards. _That’s_ why she’s spent years keeping her worries and anxieties to herself, no one wants to see that. Plus, now more than ever she needed to focus on her kickboxing career. She now had sponsorship proposals, so she has a chance to help Razz _more_ than just paying for a caretaker. With her initial drive ignited, she delved back into the exciting work of watching people on the gym floor, creating stories for each person, much more thrilling and hopeful than her own.

* * *

Spending the evening with Razz was refreshing and gave Adora a much needed break from her own mind. She had come to terms with Razz’s worsening stages of Alzheimer’s some months ago, when Razz first started calling her Mara. Adora didn’t know the whole story, Razz was never one to tell you _everything_ you wanted to hear, but she knew that Razz had taken Mara under her wing after having separated from her family some years ago. Similarly to Adora, Mara helped Razz around the property while she got back on her feet. From what Adora could gather, Mara was kind, strong, and passionate, so she didn’t mind being called by her name. If anything, it felt nice to take on a role as unsure and anxiety-ridden as herself.

Adora took Razz on a walk around the property, which was about six acres located on the edge of a forest. Razz spend most of the time mumbling about how the woods would whisper secrets to her, while Adora walked next to her arm in arm. The path around the various fences were worn, as they both walked this route nearly every day, and it was something Adora looked forward to. Similarly to being in a match, her mind was more tethered when she went on these daily walks, plus she got to spend some time with Razz while she’s not in her bed or zoning out watching the news.

By the time she made dinner for the both of them and put Razz to bed, Adora fell backwards into her bed completely exhausted. The lack of sleep was tugging at her eyelids, as if there was a physical weight attached to them. From her session with Huntara, work at the gym, and looking after Razz, she even forgot to log her workouts. She liked to see her progress throughout the months and no matter how much she felt like an out-of-control mess, at least she was _organized_.

She opens up her notes app on her phone, taking a second to remember how many miles she ran… _five_ _and a half, before Huntara made me stop_. She sighs at the recent memory of her trainers frustration at her, and went to add the miles to her note, when something caught her eye. A new note, or one she didn’t remember making. She pressed on the new, weird list, lifting a hand over her mouth when she read it and realized what it was. 

_hey, adora_

_I believe you have something of mine. Call me if you want, (xxx) xxx - xxxx_

_\- C_

Maybe it was her nearly dream-like state due to almost no sleep, but she immediately pressed the number and opened up a new message.

**10:49 pm**

**Hey, Catra? This is Adora!**

Before her brain caught up with her thumb, she pressed send. Immediately afterwards, despite her exhaustion, she gasps at the realization of what she just did. Adora threw the phone across the room in horror and fell back into her pillows with a huff. Struggling to think of anything other than the pros and cons of using an exclamation point in her text, she ultimately decided it was a stupid decision. _I bet Catra thinks I’m a psycho._ Adora grabs the nearest pillow and pulls it over her face, releasing a loud sigh that was desperate to escape.

Just as she accepts her fate of ending up alone for the rest of her life (a whole two minutes after she sent the text), she hears a slight buzz coming from the other side of her room and jumps out of bed to retrieve it.

Holding her breath, she grabs it and her heart stops.

**10:51pm**

**hey adora**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have successfully planned the rest of the fic, and I am just warning you the title should probably be "Adora Really Can't Catch a Break" so just a fair warning lol. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, I appreciate every single one of yall who have read this! Hope everyone is safe and healthy.


	6. I Don't Think That I Need Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra completes her job, but it gets a little more fucked up than normal. Her and Adora connect again after their unconventional first hour together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said we’d span over a longer timeframe, but everyone knows one day of lesbian yearning is like a week of normal time. 
> 
> Title is from S.O.S. by INNR CIRCLE, a fantastic and accurate song to the fic I think. 
> 
> TW: Implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced self harm, pretty heavy emotional (?) abuse and manipulation by the hands of Shadow Weaver, I'll provide a summary of what happened at the end of the chapter.

It must have been the alcohol. That _must_ be why Catra was feeling that way. Let’s see... it was two beers at the match and three... no four rum and cokes. So, she was decently tipsy, especially when she first met Adora, and something about Adora was magnetic. Catra could be a horny drunk in the right circumstances, and she was looking at a ridiculously hot kickboxer, so that _must_ have been it.

But deep in the gut she knew that wasn't just it.

She's never helped someone so readily like that before. Looking back an hour, she felt confused. It was like someone better than herself was taking over her body and her fucked up, broken part of her brain didn't have the chance to argue, when normally it’s in control. So now, Catra felt off balance and jumbled. 

Catra has known what it has felt like to try and deal with anxiety. Hers were different in that her quickened heart rate seemed to fuel ideas of how she is a bad friend or a bad person in general, possibly resulting in an uncontrollable outburst of anger and breaking things. When she was younger, she often took it out on herself. She wondered if it was similar for Adora. Like every thought was running circles around her head at 100mph and how more kept getting added to the mix. Like she was desperately gasping for air while also needed to slow down her breaths, against all of her instincts.

Initially, she didn’t exactly know what would help. I mean, she met this girl like an hour ago! But seeing Adora so vulnerable, emotionally and physically, hit some weakness Catra had that she wasn't even aware of, and without a second thought Catra moved towards her. She got half-heartedly threatened, but Catra assumed it was because someone was walking towards her in an alleyway, not because Adora knew it was her. At least she hoped.

She eventually got closer and sat down next to Adora, rubbing her hand lightly up and down Adora's arm. She read about that once and maybe, just maybe, Scorpia did that to her and it _maybe_ helped. Just maybe.

It seemed to have helped. Catra just sat there in the silence, knowing trying to talk right now would not be helpful. She eventually opened up her phone once Adora’s breathing starting to slow, instructing her to follow the stopwatch, and got Adora’s phone in return. Catra had to leave soon, she did not want to find out what happens if she’s late to one of Shadow Weaver's job, but was not about to leave her alone. Catra needed to call… _shit. What was his name? This is why you shouldn’t just call people by nicknames… Bow!_

She gets into Adora’s phone easily, _what a dumbass, she doesn’t even have a passcode_ , she thinks fondly, and searches her contacts for Bow’s number. She sighs at the sheer amount of emojis after his name and calls him.

After a somewhat frustrating conversation where Catra wasn’t even sure Bow heard a word of what she said, she makes her way back to the blonde who is trying her hardest to match the stopwatch intervals. Catra felt that fondness again, a feeling deep in her stomach that seemed to be fighting to the surface with every step she takes. Trying her best to squish down those feelings, she sat back with Adora and tried to focus on her.

Catra plopped down next to the kickboxer, making sure to sit close enough to her where their arms were touching. Catra tried to ignore the innocent excitement associated with touching arms with a beautiful woman as she watches Adora’s breathing start to slow, her body no longer shaking.

Catra hears some shuffling around the corner of the alley when Adora tries to apologize, cutting her off before Catra can reassure her there was nothing to be sorry about.

Adora’s friends round the corner, shouting and running towards the two. Catra stands up as they approach, feeling somewhat startled at the ferocity written all over the short, sparkly girl headed straight towards her. She tucks the feeling away and regains her confident demeanor, slightly regretting that she had to call Adora’s friends, but she _really_ had to go. 

Glimmer unexpectedly grabs Catra’s arm, leading her towards the entrance of the alley and away from Adora. Glimmer then whips her around, steam basically blowing out of her nose.

“What the _fuck_ did you do?” Glimmer whisper-yells, pressing her index finger sharply into Catra’s chest.

“What the fuck? I found her and called you guys?” Catra matches her intensity, building off of Glitter’s anger. _Who the fuck does she think she is?_

“You _found_ her? Yeah right, we saw you both at the bar and now she’s freaking out! She has too much on her plate right now and she doesn’t need a rude, obnoxious _bitch_ tainting her life!” Glimmer grabs Adora’s phone from Catra’s hand and turns around, walking back into the alley towards Adora. Catra notices Adora looks better with Bow and felt a twinge of _something_ in her chest. Not wanting to explore whatever _that_ feeling was, she remembers Glimmers words and squeezes her fists. _What a bitch._ Her fingernails start to burn at her palms, bringing her back. She realizes how late she must be, so with a breath she turns around and takes off.

Catra sprints towards her meeting spot, ignoring how her shoes were _definitely_ not made to run in. Her memories of high school track fill her mind, before Shadow Weaver made her quit, it has been way too long since she stretched her legs like this. She makes a mental note to try to walk or run to places more.

She glances at her phone. 2:23 am. She had about a mile to go, and seven minutes was easily doable for her five years ago, but she was a bit out of practice. She curses herself for not sticking with it over the years. Focusing on her quick strides and ignoring the drunk Brightmoon patrons curiously watching her sprint in black combat boots, ripped black jeans, and a maroon t-shirt, she races against the clock.

She approaches the bench 26 seconds late, trying her best to hide her gasping breaths. The runner was already seated, looking impatient, like half a minute was a half an hour. They wore a navy ball cap that covered their head, the rest of their face covered in a shadow due to the eerily yellow streetlamp located down the path. Catra never saw the same runner twice.

“You’re late.” They grumble, their voice low and gravelly.

“Barely.” Catra plops down next to the runner on the bench, facing forward as she speaks.

“Weaver will hear about this. She doesn’t care for those who can’t be one time.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure. Just give me the bag already.”

The runner places a small black backpack carefully in between them, getting up quickly afterwards. They stand there for a moment too long and glance slightly backwards.

“Be careful.” And then they’re gone.

Brushing off their unexpected comment, Catra grabs the bag and slings it over her shoulder. Slightly muffled items rattle as the bag moves, piquing her curiosity, but Catra knows better. Shadow Weaver seems to have eyes everywhere, somehow, she would know if the backpack was even _touched_ by someone who wasn’t supposed to, and Catra knows better than to pry into these jobs. She’s survived long enough because she doesn’t ask questions, despite her wandering thoughts about what’s in the bag and who’s it for while she’s trying to sleep.

Due to it being a Friday night, it was easy to catch an Uber. The address for the drop-off location was about 20 minutes out of town, but thankfully it was in the direction of her and Scorpia’s apartment. Because Shadow Weaver was destined to make Catra’s life living hell in every possible way, there was no reimbursements for the rides. Catra remembers her saying it was _payback_ for housing the “insolent brat for too many goddamn years”.

Catra moved out of Ms. Weaver’s foster home at the first opportunity once she turned 18, before Weaver would kick her out. As luck would have it, she found Scorpia’s listing on an online roommate posting, and moved in that same day with a single backpack and cardboard box. Unfortunately, moving out did not mean she wouldn’t have to deal with Shadow Weaver’s anymore, it just meant she didn’t have to see her as often. Shadow Weaver, the name Catra came up with for Ms. Weaver, made sure of that.

Catra still worked for one of Shadow Weaver’s “business buddies”, and she was almost positive there was something sketchy about it, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to stay there, especially after she moved out, but she was smart enough to realize it was objectively a good opportunity if she ever wanted to actually go to art school and advance her career. Catra still did the various receptionist/art gallery assistant tasks, like coordinating buyers and sellers or contacting services for an event, but she had eavesdropped on one too many conversations between the art gallery manager and Shadow Weaver to think that this building was just an art gallery. The art was too generic, she could do _way_ better, and the gallery had too few events to afford just the rent alone in this part of the city. But getting too curious was dangerous, so she tried her best to let it go. Despite how much hated, viscerally _hated_ , the old wench, a disgusting part of her felt proud that Shadow Weaver kept her around. An illogical and juvenile part of her fed off of feeling important, even for someone as vile as Weaver.

As she sat in the back of the Uber, her gaze wandered towards the backpack in the seat next to her. She barely noticed it, but there was a black textured logo embroidered on the front. The black thread on the dark backpack made it difficult to make out, but after bringing it closer to Catra’s face, her stomach dropped. She recognized that logo, she even saw it tonight at the Brightmoon Tournament finals. Horde Enterprises. _What were they have to do with Shadow Weaver and whatever the hell is in the bag?_

Catra didn’t know a ton about the company, but they spanned over nearly everything in the city. They owned various buildings from offices, apartments, even manufacturing plants. No one really knew what exactly they did, but they had heaps of money and had a reputation of being untouchable. And their logo was on the other boxer’s robe, Lonnie she thinks it was, so they must sponsor fighters as well.

Catra was racking her brain for other explanations that she didn’t realize the Uber pulled over to the side of the road.

“This is as far as I’ll go.”

“What? It’s a couple blocks towards the address, what the fuck do you mean?”

“Look, I got a family at home. I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I don’t want any part of it. Now get out please?”

“Yeah alright, douchebag. Jesus…” Catra grabs the bag and steps out of the car, too pissed off to really think anything about it. The car drives off quickly, leaving Catra muttering to herself.

She continues walking down the dark street, getting further into the heart of the industrial district. It was technically still in Brightmoon city limits, but no one associated it with the city. The address looked to be a warehouse on the waterfront, which was then about a 15 minute walk back to her and Scorpia’s raggedy apartment. This was a new location for Catra, almost all drop off locations were different, so a sketchy place wasn’t new. All she had to do was meet someone at the door, say she was here on behalf of Weaver, and hand off the bag. Easy peasy.

Nearing the address, the wind started to pick up. The air was _cold._ And as a cosmic “fuck you” for a semblance of kindness, it started to drizzle on her bare arms. The universe just seemed to love giving Catra the finger whenever she tried to do the right thing. _Ugh. I should’ve kept my jacket._

Except, she kind of enjoyed being able to help Adora, even in a small way. The soft smile she gave when the leather covered her shoulders fed a part of Catra that she didn’t know was hungry. _Whatever. Now I’m cold and wet and it’s her fault._ Catra sighs to herself, knowing that her childish inner thoughts were wrong, but she was too tired and uncomfortable to argue.

She approaches a large metal door, a sickly yellow light flickering across the street. She glances around and sees no one else in the vicinity, so she knocks twice. There’s some shuffling inside the door. Catra stands up straighter as the door groans and opens slightly, two beady eyes peering through the crack.

“I’m dropping off on behalf of Weaver.” Catra glances at her nails. The door opens wider and figure of the man at the door becomes clearer. He is _massive._ Like nearing seven foot and has weird fucking neck bulges type of massive.

“Come in. Octavia wants to check the bag.”

“Sorry _Hulk_ , I ain’t staying anywhere. No trouble, I’m just dropping off – wait. Why does she want to check the bag?” She’s never had anyone check the bag before. Catra had heard the name Octavia in passing, but it was never in good context. From what she knew, Octavia was a previous foster kid of Weaver’s before Catra's time, that now works for her.

“Does it look like I know? Get inside.”

The man peered down at Catra; annoyance clear on his face. Before she can return a snarky remark, the man grabs her shoulder dragging her inside. Despite her instincts screaming at her to fight back and run, she steps inside, knowing any fighting would make the situation worse.

The warehouse was huge, about the size of a football field, and had gigantic beige lights illuminating the cement floors. Grey beams ran the length of the ceiling, disappearing behind massive partitions that obstructed the view of the rest of the building. Their footsteps echoed throughout the immense, nearly empty space. Catra notices a small black handgun tucked into the waist band of the bouncer while he guides her through the warehouse. She's seen a variety of different guns from living in a sketchy foster home with an even sketchier caretaker, but they still made Catra uncomfortably nervous.

He leads her to an office that lined the right side of the wall. The blinds were closed, and another man guarded the door.

The man doesn’t release his iron grip on Catra’s shoulder until they step into the office and closes the door behind them. She rubs her shoulder, scoffing at the bouncer, and finds a woman sitting in a dark desk chair with her back to them. A large wooden desk stand between them as the woman slowly turns around. She even has an eyepatch over one eye. _Ugh. So dramatic. Now all she needs is a calico cat to complete the Evil Villain Trope._ Catra closes her eyes and bites the inside of her cheek in efforts to stifle her laugh, but some of it escapes.

The woman, now fully facing Catra, immediately stands up and slams her hands on the top of the desk. Catra jumps at the noise and opens her eyes, color immediately draining from her face.

“Hello, _Catra_. Ms. Weaver told me alllll about you,” Octavia spits, staring daggers into Catra. “She was right, you are a disrespectful _bitch_.”

Catra scowls, opening her mouth to respond, but Octavia interrupts her before she can start.

“Don’t. Even. Try. I have some inside sources telling me that they’ve been getting stiffed on their orders, and all of them were delivered by you. I wonder if that’s a coincidence?”

“Wha-“

“What the fuck did I just say? Hmm? Don’t. Even. Try.”

Catra closes her mouth forcefully, fuming as she stands there. Octavia holds out her hand and Catra takes off the backpack, placing a shoulder strap in her hands. The woman slowly unzips the bag, tension filling the room. Reaching into the bag she takes its contents out one by one, setting down six pill bottles and three black plastic cases, opening them to evaluate the six vials in each that contain a slightly milky liquid.

“Hmm. _Catra_ ,” Octavia hisses her name, “count those for me, will you?”

Catra returns the livid stare, unsure where this is going.

“Six bottles. Three cases. I don’t even look-“

“Ah ah ah.” Octavia interrupts, shaking her head. “What’s really interesting is how I requested _eight_ bottles and _five_ cases. And now two bottles and two cases are missing. Weaver always knew you were ungrateful, but she definitely didn’t realize how fucking _stupid_ you are.” She glances at the bouncer behind Catra and nods. Catra watches as Octavia smiles wickedly, pleased with herself.

“Wait, I don’t know anything about that! Pat me down I didn’t take anything! I don’t even know what those are!” Catra pleads, disgusted by her childish begging but unable to mask her desperation. She’s seen what happens to people who stole from Weaver, even if it was just food from the foster home.

Octavia was uninterested in Catra’s reply, sitting back down in her chair with an apathetic sigh.

“Take her out back. Weaver don’t need her anymore.”

The man behind Catra grabs her shoulder, this time even more forcefully. Adrenaline courses through her veins before her brain even catches up with what’s going on, squirming down and away from the large hands dragging her out of the office.

“Stop! I don’t understand! This isn’t fair I didn’t do anything!” Catra screams, writhing away from the firm grasp.

“Life isn’t fair. Weaver sends her regards.”

The office door slams behind her, and fear rages through Catra’s body. The man was easily the largest person she had ever seen, but Catra has always been fast. Her eyes dart around the room, looking for the nearest exit if she can make a break for it. She notices the large partition was now open, revealing various empty boxing rings set up behind it. _If I could just break away from the fucking death grip I could maybe make it to the back door behind all those rings…_

Before she can begin her escape plan, the bouncer picks her up and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Catra can’t fucking die this way, after all that she had been through? She sends a barrage of flailing limbs, hoping, fucking praying, that the guy will release her. Catra attempts to push herself away, but to no avail. She braces as he exits the warehouse into a dark alley.

He grabs Catra from his shoulder and throws her down on the cold, wet cement. She scrambles backwards, shuffling away from the man, who reaches behind him to retrieve the handgun from his belt. Catra’s stomach drops as she realizes this is _literally_ it. Her confident exterior was now completely gone, her lip trembling as he moves closer.

“No, please! I … it wasn’t fucking me! I’m not lying!” The man takes another step toward her and Catra’s back is met with the cold wall of the end of the alley. She had nowhere to go.

Her breathing increases as she imagines all the things she wanted to do before she was gone. Scorpia and Perfuma helped her make it when she was at a particularly low place a little over a year ago. It was all so ironic. Finally, not wanting to die, then being fucking murdered for something she didn’t do.

An unexpected sense of apathy washed over her as she released the tension in her muscles, knowing there was no use. _Why did I ever think I would get a happy ending?_ Maybe she used every last bit of adrenaline she had, or maybe she was glad she would finally be released of Shadow Weaver’s controlling grip. She glances towards the man as he takes another step and starts to lift his right arm, gun in hand. She closes her eyes and imagines a pair of comforting blue eyes. With a new sense of acceptance, she waits for the final sound before darkness surrounds her.

Except it never comes.

Catra counts out five seconds before she slowly and carefully opens up an eye to see the gun being tucked back into the belt of the bounder and Octavia stepping into the alley. Confusion riddled Catra’s face as she makes eye contact with the woman. 

And Octavia laughs. She _laughs_. _What the fuck?_ She approaches Catra, slowly, her foot seeming to stomp every step she takes, and leans down to where Catra is sitting. She outstretches her hand, grabbing Catra’s face and tilting it upwards.

“Weaver says ‘don’t be late again’.” She spits, chuckling as she stands up and joins the man.

As the pair disappears back into the warehouse, Catra stares out in shock. She leans over and empties her stomach.

She doesn’t know how long she was there, trying to purge the experience from her body, but she stands and stumbles back home, completely numb.

* * *

Sleep didn’t come easy. Every time she managed to fall asleep, she jolted awake shortly after. The nightmares were ruthless, once again showing how manipulative, abusive, and just plain evil Shadow Weaver was, and although they were just dreams, they weren’t that short of reality. Her seemingly near-death experience was just one example of how far Weaver was willing to go to show that she’s in charge. 

Catra didn’t bother getting out of bed the next day. She called out of her shift, saying she had food poisoning, probably much to Shadow Weaver’s delight.

Scorpia came and left meals at her door but took them away after a few hours when they went untouched. Around dinner time she made the improvement of getting out her dusty old laptop, putting on stupid cartoons to occupy her mind as her thoughts begin to return.

A couple hours later, Scorpia knocked on her door, but didn’t leave when she didn’t get a reply.

“Wildcat, I’m coming in, okay?” Catra didn’t even bother to respond, she knew her friend would come in regardless.

Light floods the bedroom, making Catra shove a hand to block out the light and audibly hisses from the brightness. She didn’t realize it was already dark out, the blinds stayed drawn throughout the day.

Scorpia approaches Catra’s nest of blankets on her bed and sits at the end, causing the bed to squeak from the change in weight.

“What do you want for dinner. My treat, any take out you want.” Scorpia asks softly with a smile. She waits there for a few minutes, then tries again.

“Pad Thai from the cart around the corner? Or maybe some of those cinnamon rolls from the Brightmoon Bakery?” Scorpia patiently waits again.

They sit next to each other for a couple minutes and then Catra can't take the silence anymore. 

“Shrimp pad thai. Extra lime." Catra turns around in her bed, facing the wall and away from her friend's worried gaze. She hates feeling so _small_. 

Scorpia smiles at the muffled order and pats Catra’s shoulder as she stands.

“I’ll be back in half an hour, Wildcat.” She closes the door behind her, enveloping the room in darkness once again.

* * *

They eat quietly on their kitchen island, the muffled sounds of Saturday night partygoers stumbling in the street outside the window drifting into the apartment. After they both have finished, Scorpia cleans both places and silently makes her way towards the couch and browses through Netflix. After a few minutes Catra joins her, sitting on the opposite side of the sofa.

Scorpia and her had a lot of unspoken understanding that Catra was grateful for, even if she would never say it. They had been roommates for about four years now and Scorpia was the first person Catra told about Shadow Weaver, even if it was just bits and pieces. Catra had enough experience to now know that sometimes it would be worse to be alone, but she was also not ready to talk about it. So, the undeclared compromise to coax Catra out of her depression nest was to relocate to the couch and watch a movie or TV show.

They were reaching the third episode of Pose when Catra started hearing the roaring snores start up from the other side of the couch. Catra tosses her blanket over in Scorpia’s general direction and goes back to her room, her body itching for something to do.

Now encased in darkness and loneliness, Catra quietly paces around her small bedroom. She’s unsure if it was the hours of being stagnant or anxious energy from her experience last night, but her hands were aching to move, to _create_. She could feel her thoughts become more restless, so unless she wanted to fall back into her spiral, she needed to do something.

As much as her bed beckoned for her company, Catra knew better. Gathering all the energy and motivation she had left, she grabs a tub underneath her bed, uncovering her art supplies. She didn’t have access to a pottery wheel until Monday, so her hands wander towards a sealed block of clay, roll of tin foil, and a coil of flexible chicken wire. She gathers the supplies and places them carefully on her desk, which sat under the lone windowsill in her bedroom. Her hands seem to have a mind of their own as they immediately set up and begin to twist the wire into the foundation of a face.

Catra was grateful just to give her mind a break. In these moments, it feels like there is something beyond her conscious thoughts controlling her creation. She doesn’t have to think about the next step, each movement flows into the next. It was these instances where Catra can’t even hear the music blaring in her headphones, her fingers seem to occupy all the space in her mind. The maneuvering of the wire, the physicality of twisting and pushing the stiff material into a purposeful shape was a step Catra loved. It was the concrete foundation of her creation; a sturdy base was necessary for the survival of her sculpture.

Catra never felt like she had that in herself, her chaotic childhood left her feeling like she had cracks in who she thought she was and who she wanted to be. Living outside of Shadow Weaver’s “care”, if you could even call it that, and attempts at seeing a therapist just increased the feeling of confusion as to why she acted the way she did, why she felt the way she did, and why she was the way she was. Who was she beyond her trauma and shitty life experiences, especially now that she was older? Why does she keep on pining for Weaver’s attention and acceptance, expecting _something_ to change? That’s one definition for insanity, right? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?

Catra was nearly finished with her wire base when her vibrating phone disrupted her concentration. She rarely got notifications and Scorpia was the only one who texted her beside Weaver, so she almost ignored it and dove back into her project when she realized who it could be. A slight smile creeps up on her face and she reaches for her phone.

**10:49 pm**

**Hey, Catra? This is Adora!**

Catra chuckled at her endearing text, imagining Adora’s face when she found the note. Catra was pleased with herself for quietly planting her number in Adora’s note app. She found a variety of notes that looked to be journal entries and a workout tracker, _what a cute, neurotic weirdo_. She pushed away the curiosity of looking at her journal entries and opened up a new note, writing a quick message with her number.

She hesitates for a few moments about texting back, especially so quickly, but something about Adora was captivating; she felt drawn to her even over text.

**10:51pm**

**hey adora**

She opts for a seemingly nonchalant response, despite her increased heart rate but she didn’t want to seem too eager. The reaction in itself was unfamiliar to Catra, she was never disrespectful or anything, but she was never interested in a relationship with any of the girls she brought home. Catra tried to date immediately after moving in with Scorpia, but she had never seen an actual healthy, successful relationship at her foster home so those faded quickly. Plus, seeing Scorpia with Perfuma was the most foreign and confusing thing to watch. They had been dating for almost two years now and were both _still_ giddy and acted like they were teenagers whenever they talked about each other. Catra could never imagine feeling that way about someone else, and more particularly, having someone else think of her like that. It was like Scorpia saw Perfuma as the sun. She knew she could never be the sun for someone like Perfuma was for Scorpia, but that was _embarrassing_ anyways so it didn’t matter.

But _something_ about Adora drew Catra in; she wanted to know anything and everything about her. This feeling was new and awkward, making Catra’s face contort and throw her phone onto her bed. 

Catra spends the next half an hour forcing herself to ignore the vibrations coming from her phone and finish the wire scalp. She imagined the idea of how she wanted the project to turn out and decided to focus on that.

She slowly worked on her sculpture, adding a base layer of tin foil around the wires and slapped clay on top. She sectioned off portions of the face, deciding to work on the nose first.

Getting lost in the sculpting process was expected for Catra. She hadn’t created anything recently and thinking back on the last time, she realized it was after a particularly stressful job for Shadow Weaver, but not nearly as bad as last night. Her last creation was a messy rendition of her old foster mother, where Catra added a black and crimson cloak and a mask to hide her vile scowl. Catra didn’t have enough time to take a picture of the finished product before she slammed her fist into the clay, scratching her knuckle on a stray wire. She kept hitting it until the clay and wires were crushed into a thin layer over her desk. She sat there, seething and hating Shadow Weaver more with every breath. It wasn’t until later that she realized her knuckles were bleeding, thin trails of red forming like rivers down her fingers.

Catra has thought about moving and starting somewhere new every day. But the idea of living beyond Shadow Weaver’s grasp seemed nearly impossible, especially because so much of her life was still tied to her. The job at the art gallery was probably because Weaver knew Catra wouldn’t say anything about the mysterious funding and odd hours. The other jobs, now Catra knew they consisted of delivering drugs she didn’t even know the name of to various buyers, were to keep Catra closer and Weaver made it clear that if Catra ever snitched, she would go down with them. Plus, any other behavior that Weaver deemed out of line, would result in that wench of a woman to anonymously turn in evidence that pointed towards Catra’s responsibility of _the incident_.

Catra has refused to purposefully think about _the incident_ for years. It occasionally plays out in nightmares, over and over again, especially after a job, and Catra knows it will be a long time before her guilt has been dealt with. The near constant reminders that Catra will never escape the control of Shadow Weaver didn’t make it easier.

Maybe that was why even though sunrise was rapidly approaching, yet sleep was nowhere near Catra’s mind.

As the outside air of the apartment started to turn orange with the rising sun, light began to sneak through the slats of Catra’s drawn blinds. Wanting to feel the light for a change, she opens her blinds and removes her headphones to watch the scene in front of her unfold.

She sees a handful of early morning runners jog down the sidewalk, most of them headed towards the waterfront. Although her apartment was in a more dangerous part in the industrial distinct, her window had a view of the river the intercepted the city that was located eight blocks away. Being on the eighth floor had its perks, even if there was no working elevator. On the other side of the river, there was a nice walkway that followed the water with a variety of grass patches, where stoners and businesspeople alike relaxed throughout the day. A bridge connected the two sides of the river, just a few blocks north of Catra’s apartment.

The water began to turn a light orange, mirroring the stretching sun that began to peak over the skyline on the opposite side of the river. Closing her eyes, Catra could feel the slight warmth that permeated through her window and settled on her skin.

She allows her mind to wander, maybe it was because of the sleepless night or maybe it was the friendliness of the sun on her skin, and thinks about her night with Adora. A grin sneaks onto her face as she traces the sharp lines of Adora’s face in her mind and the soft intimacy associated with helping Adora when she was vulnerable. Seeing her at a high, winning the kickboxing tournament, and at a low, an intense anxiety attack after they had met, was doing weird things to Catra. But Catra was still in control. She could stop imagining her and cut all ties if she wanted. But she was having fun, so why not indulge in something that felt good for a little while?

Her laugh echoing in her ears, Catra suddenly remembers she hasn’t looked at her texts.

She leaps towards the bed and frantically slides her hands around the blankets, trying to find her phone. Her hand finally finds it, whipping it up to see a new text message from a number not yet saved.

**10:59 pm**

**Hey!**

**11:06 pm**   
  


**Would you want to meet for coffee or something soon? I have something of yours :)**

**11:13 pm**

**I can also just drop it off if not! It’s okay if not!**

With anyone else, Catra would scowl at the barrage of triple text, but she didn’t mind. She even, maybe, thought it was sweet. She’s never really met someone that was so interested in talking to her that they would be _flustered_ , even over text. Despite the fact that it was just before 6:30am, Catra decided to text her back before she finally goes to sleep.

**6:25 am**

**yeah coffee sounds great**

**that’s my favorite jacket, you better be taking care of it**

Catra leaves her sculpture behind, finally getting ready for her bed. She worked at the gallery later that day, so she might as well try to get a couple hours of sleep. She catches herself humming while brushing her teeth, her mind trying to remember everything she could about the blonde.

As she slides in her sheets, she feels her phone vibrate and her body gets a rush of excitement. Taking a breath to calm herself down, she opens the message to see an attachment. She clicks on it and a picture pops up.

It was the dorkiest, fucking _greatest_ selfie Catra had ever seen. Adora held the phone up above her and wore a dark blue polo shirt with a small Brightmoon Fitness embroidered in the right corner. Her hair was thrown into a tight ponytail, but without a ridiculous hair poof above her forehead, and sweat glistened on her _beautiful_ arms and chest. Catra’s eyes hungrily wandered below her chest, admiring the white sport bra that peaked out at the bottom of the unbuttoned polo shirt. Catra’s always thought polo shirts were dumb, mainly because she always associated them with stupid frat bros, but now she is _seriously_ reconsidering.

Near the floor in the picture was a dark gym bag with a brown leather jacket strewn across it.

Her phone vibrates once more.

**6:33 am**

**Safe and sound :)**

The concept of sleep seemed to fade with each passing moment. Catra knows that her shift will be miserable if she doesn’t get at least a _few_ hours, but she can’t seem to put her phone down.

**6:35 am**

**working hard?**

**6:39 am**

**Ha! Went running before my shift.**

**What are you doing up? You don’t seem like an “early bird” to me**

**6:42 am**

**never went to sleep.**

**what can i say, inspiration strikes at odd hours**

They text until Catra can’t keep her eyes open anymore.

She doesn’t have any nightmares that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of intense scene:
> 
> Catra was late to pick up the bag from the runner. Catra goes to drop off the bag at a warehouse and the bouncer says they need to check the bag. Octavia, a woman who works for Weaver, was inside and accuses Catra of stealing some of drugs because she ordered more than what was in the bag. Catra doesn't know what she's talking about, but Octavia tells the bouncer to take her out into the alley and get rid of her. Catra notices various boxing rings set up in the warehouse as she is led outside to the alley. The bouncer is about to shoot her but then Octavia comes out, laughs, and tells her not to be late again. Catra fully believed she was about to be killed. 
> 
> Whew! Thank you for reading friends, I appreciate each and every one of you! 
> 
> I'm curious as to what you thought about this chapter! Let me know in the comments :)


	7. Lost in the Heat of it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora opens up to her friends, and Shadow Weaver continues to be a lil bitch. Split POV chapter when Adora and Catra meet up at a coffee shop, but of course nothing is ever simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little break, school has been kicking my ass and has been taking all of my free time. Enjoy one of the longest chapters I've written for this story!

**Adora**

It physically pained Adora each time she had put down her phone and to return to job-related tasks. Her and Catra had texted throughout the morning, and each time her phone vibrated she giggled in excitement.

It felt like all the outside stress faded away when she thought about her. Or it didn’t exactly disappear, it just felt more manageable.

When Huntara initially told her about the sponsorship deals, Adora got overwhelmed quickly. Each offer had different _everything_. Different amounts of money offered upfront, some offered cash each win, some offered cash each match, and all offered a variety of sponsored equipment. Plus, some companies were larger and screamed “corporate businessperson” and others were more local and thought Adora matched their values. All of them seemed daunting, Adora hasn’t had the best track record when it came to making big decisions. It was very easy for choices to seem too large with so many consequences if she chose the wrong one. And sometimes, she just separated from the emotional aspect and barreled her way forward, often having to pick up the pieces of her neglected emotional wellbeing when it is too late.

It was also a strange feeling that these three companies were competing for Adora’s choice. After so many years of being downright neglected and ignored by various caretakers, it felt odd and uncomfortable. She-Ra’s spotlight has been getting bigger and bigger each week, especially after the last fight, and she quickly quadrupled her Instagram and social media following practically overnight. The attention was more than Adora had expected, even though logically she knew at least some media attention would happen if she was successful and became a pro. Three strangers checking into the gym from this shift alone congratulated her on her match two nights ago. It just felt weird that it was happening to _her_.

She didn’t really understand that it would be like _this_.

Adora initially saw kickboxing as a great way to relieve her pent-up anger about various shitty parts of her life, like Razz’s declining memory, feeling like a financial and emotional leech on Razz and her friends, and battling her anxiety nearly every day. If she was overthinking about a stupid thing she said or when life felt overwhelming, she could channel all her energy and anger into sparring or training, all thoughts melting away as She-Ra took over. 

But, slowly but surely, and she didn’t even realize this until her conversation with Catra, kickboxing itself was becoming one of those aspects that she was using training and the punching bag to deal with. How do you deal with the increasing pressure of being enough for the people around you when the one coping mechanism you found is adding to that pressure?

The words have been echoing in her mind the past two days, this time they didn’t catch off guard.

_What do you want?_ Adora still wasn’t sure.

Not only was the sponsorship decision itself nearly overwhelming, it felt weird to finally have reached a spot that she has been working towards for years. Her whole life, Adora has spent nearly every waking minute in various extracurriculars after school, minimum wage jobs, volunteering, exercising, basically anything to occupy her brain so it didn’t take one anxious thought and run with it. Being sponsored, in addition to now being considered a professional kickboxer, means that this is her job, her _career_.

With the increasing pressure of being successful, still trying to find a replacement cook for Razz’s Kitchen, keep up social appearances, and Razz’s worsening state, she was unsure if moving forward was something she wanted. But regardless, she had to.

She allows her mind to wander on the other side of the scary “what ifs” that would come from accepting a sponsorship offer. She wouldn’t have to continue working at the front desk, and she could spend that time training and watching Razz. Maybe she could finally pay Spinny what she deserved, not just anything Adora had left after gas and food. And maybe, just _maybe_ , she could spend more time getting to know the person behind those mesmerizing, mismatched eyes who she was currently texting.

Adora could feel a sliver a hope prying through the thick veil of various doubts and anxieties in her mind.

She felt conflicted on if she should let it in.

* * *

“Adora!”

Her head bolts upright, feeling disoriented from her change in attention.

“Were you even listening?!”

“Sorry. Sorry! Yes, what were you saying?”

Glimmer continued to ramble about an upcoming boot camp she was putting together, scarily animated and enthusiastic to be given more responsibility from her mom.

Adora was grateful for them trying to act as normal as possible, but the tension was heavier today. It was no secret Adora has been detached from … everyone lately, even herself. She was used to being ‘She-Ra’ in the ring, detaching herself from her life and feeling herself release that weight to barrel forward with the sole goal of beating her opponent, but she could feel that part of her bleeding into her life beyond the ring.

Adora was spending every waking moment training, working the front desk, and sitting with Razz. She couldn’t even remember the last time she actually spent time with Glimmer and Bow outside of work or when they went and saw one of her fights. It just felt _exhausting_ , trying to keep up an excitable persona when Adora hadn’t felt very excited about anything lately, even her win against Lonnie. It just all felt dull. And feeling dull felt difficult, so she did what she always did. She kept herself busy. 

Thankfully, Bow saved her from Glimmer’s ramble, bringing over popcorn and an assortment of different candy and putting it all on the coffee table.

“Alright! Who’s ready for a Movie Night!” Bow exclaims, while Adora plasters a smile on her face and waves her arms around in as much excitement she can muster.

“Which one are we watching again?”

“Adora!” Bow cried, his signature voice crack accompanying his yell. “ _Portrait of a Lady on Fire_ , remember? I can’t believe you still haven’t seen it.”

Adora parts her lips and nods, feigning understanding when she had no recollection of ever discussing the movie. She smiles at the pair, compelling herself to take a deep breath and try to be in the moment, with her close friends, who care about her even though she is only half present a majority of the time. Adora’s eyes soften slightly at the sight of them, settling into a signature position on the chaise of the couch, discussing their excitement for the film that they’ve seen before. Part of her, a part that is not often present, wants to tell them everything they deserve to know. Something Razz once said, years ago, about how expecting someone to read your mind is like trying to make a berry pie with no berries _… “it just ain’t gonna work, dearie.”_

“Hey, guys?”

“What’s up, Adora?” Bow asks gently, both him and Glimmer glancing towards their friend with looks of slight concern, barely hidden on their faces.

The small sliver of courage to actually open up was slipping away from Adora’s grasp by the second. She wanted to apologize, to tell them everything, about how heavy everything seemed right now, how she felt like a well that finally reached the top of its storage. How she’s terrified of something happening to Razz, it’s becoming more likely every day, and how she’s unsure what company to sign with or how she feels terrified to disappoint the gym now that she’s gaining traction. “I –“

_Why would you ruin a perfectly good movie night, a movie night that your friends did for_ you _, by burdening them with stupid things that they won’t be able to fix?_

In an all too suffocating feeling accompanying her doubting mind, an invisible stone takes a seat at her throat, causing any opportunity to share to be quashed.

“I love you guys.”

“Awww, Adora we love you too! Come here!”

She climbs over, joining their hug and genuinely feels it. Maybe she wasn’t able to talk to them now, but it was a start. And just as she thought she was in the clear, her phone buzzes on the coffee table, and catches Glimmer staring at it.

“Okay, who keeps texting you?!” Glimmer exclaims, catching Adora’s eye. Her question wasn’t backed by anger, per se, but there was a degree of frustration with a hint of curiosity. Adora stares back at her blankly, her mouth slightly open, like she got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Automatically she withdraws, unsure what to say, wracking her brain for how they would react if they, particularly Glimmer, knew it was Catra. They’ve been texting throughout the day, and every time she heard her phone vibrate her whole body itched with excitement and anticipation.

Catra. _Catra. Catra. Catra. Catra. Catra. Catra. Catr_ -

“It’s just Huntara!” Adora blurts out, surprised by her own outburst. “She’s been telling me a lot about the Sponsorship deals and such. Very boring.” She couldn’t stop lying, and before they could question any further, she adds, “Let’s start the movie!”

Adora lurches for the remote and presses play, quelling any other questions from her friends. She wasn’t entirely sure why she felt compelled to lie and hide Catra from them, but it was so new, and she would tell them when it was right. She didn’t even know if Catra was gay, her gaydar was impressively bad. Like, still is unsure if a woman was gay even if she had an undercut and pride pins, bad. Adora’s never been good at reading in between the lines.

But a nagging feeling was tugging at her attention, filling the space with guilt and anxiety. _Why are you such a bad friend? Lying to the people who have selflessly supported you through so much?_ The dichotomous thoughts made Adora’s head hurt, feeling stuck between protecting this new thing with Catra, that may not even be a “thing”, burdening her friends, and being honest with her friends who definitely deserve more.

The whirlwind of thoughts was becoming too much, so Adora takes a deep breath and reaches for the remote once more, pausing the movie that had only started a minute ago. Before her friends can protest, Adora holds up her hands and closes her eyes.

“I need to say some things that are really hard to say, but I want to be honest with you both, because you deserve a thousand times more than what I have been giving you.”

She waits for them to yell or tell her to play the movie again, but she is met with a comfortable silence. _You’re ruining a perfectly good night by-_ Before the thought could continue, Adora pushes through.

“I know I’ve been a little distant lately, and I’m sorry. Like, really really sorry. I know you guys deserve more than me and I just want to explain and then you can be done with me.” She squints an eye open and sees Glimmer about to say something, but Bow puts his hand on her arm, causing her to close her mouth and listen.

“It’s been really overwhelming lately, with working at the gym, the match, and going through these sponsorship deals. Plus, Razz has been less coherent lately and I feel so bad for Spinny who has to be there for even more time now. It just feels like a lot. And I am really trying, like _really_ trying to hold it together, but it’s been so … hard. Like _so_ hard.”

Bow’s eyes soften as he returns a soft smile. “Adora, you know we love you no matter what, right?”

Adora reluctantly meets his eyes and is met with a kind expression. Her tense, small posture relaxes almost instantly.

“We know a lot has been going on, and that’s _okay_. We just really need you know we’re here for you, no matter how you are feeling. _Seriously_ , okay? We are so glad you told us, Adora.”

“Yeah, Adora, we’re your best friends, we love you and will support you no matter what, okay?” Glimmer reaches over and places her hand on Adora’s shoulder. Saltiness floods Adora’s taste, since when did she start crying?

“Thank you, guys, seriously. It can just be so hard to say it sometimes, you know?”

“I know it can be so hard, Adora, but seriously, we mean it when we say we’re here for you! I can’t speak for Glimmer but I almost feel better when you talk to us about what you’re feeling, because of how much trust and courage that takes. And we all know you can sometimes think you don’t want to burden us with your thoughts, right?” Adora nods. “I’m going to say something and I need you to hear it. You are _not_ a burden to us, nor anyone.”

She sheepishly smiles back at him, trying her hardest to ingrain those words in her brain. _I’m not a burden on them. I am not a burden on anyone._

“You have to practice choosing yourself, Adora. Investing in yourself. Investing in your own happiness. Adora, there’s a whole lot more to life than trying to get even and prove yourself to others. You are deserving of your own happiness and attention.” Bow continued, looking at her with kind but stern expression.

“I agree with everything Bow said,” Glimmer adds, “but Huntara isn’t the one that’s been texting you, is she?” There was a slight frustration in her voice that made Adora wince, but she realistically knew that Glimmer cared for her, and was just a _tad_ protective.

“No. Huntara has not been texted me. Actually…” She paused, trying to accumulate every ounce of courage she had left. “It’s Scorpia’s friend I met at the bar.” Adora squints her eyes in concentration, trying to distinguish the look on Glimmer’s face. “Her name is Catra.”

Glimmer stayed silent, so Adora continued. “I know it was hectic outside the bar but I promise it was nothing she did, I just got so overwhelmed with everything. She actually helped me calm down a lot, and we’ve been texting and something about her just makes me feel so … myself. Like just the way we talk, it… it feels so comfortable and fun. So, Glimmer, I really want you to give her a chance, okay? I don’t really know what you two were talking about before she left but I just need you to trust me, okay?”

Glimmer sat there, curled next to Bow, and soaked in Adora’s words. It comforted Adora that she was at least _thinking_ about what she said.

“Okay.”

“… Okay?”

“Okay.” Glimmer looked conflicted yet determined. “I am … sorry that I maybe got a _little_ mad at … Catra … that night of your win. I just automatically associated her with the reason for you panic attack, and I know I can be a little … intense.” She chose her words carefully, uncharacteristic of her but appreciated nonetheless. “And I trust you. _We_ trust you, Adora, and maybe we can actually meet her for real sometime soon.”

Adora raced forward, falling into their embrace with her head sandwiched between them. Through some tears that somehow showed up, she manages a small “thank you,” her voice muffled by everyone’s cozy sweaters. They stayed like that for a minute, all basking in the love and the feeling of less tension in the air.

Savoring the words of encouragement and support from her friends, Adora tried her best to ingrain the words in her head. _They’re here for me. I am not a burden. They love me. They trust me._ The all too familiar doubting voice in her head was currently replaced by a lighter, less jeering voice, more similar to Adora’s own. _I am not a burden._

The hug ended, much to everyone’s dismay, but the positioning was less than ideal. Adora wiped a tear from her eye, unsure exactly how she got so lucky.

“I’m think I’m going to ask Catra to meet for coffee tomorrow.” Adora beams, feeling confident and feeling so much lighter than before. Adora’s stressors weren’t solved, or even near fixed, but just not being alone in her thoughts helped more than she ever thought.

“Do it!!” Bow nearly screams, while Glimmer nods next to him. Adora could tell Glimmer wasn’t the most ecstatic about the idea, but the fact she was _trying_ made her heart warm. _My friends really care about me._

“Well, I don’t know, I really want to, but what if she doesn’t?” Adora’s anxious ramble was interrupted when Bow and Glimmer give each other _the look_ , and Adora rapidly looks between both of them. They seemed to communicate with a single glance sometimes, and occasionally they seem to have a full conversation with just their eyes and slight facial expressions. Adora normally thought it was sometimes irritating, but those thoughts lessened when she thought maybe she just wanted someone like that, maybe someone who’s name is Ca – her thought was interrupted by both Glimmer and Bow standing and pulling Adora up with them.

“Do it! Do it!” Both Bow and Glimmer chant, jumping up and down, causing Adora to laugh at her friends’ antics. It really has been a while since she’s laughed this much.

“Okay, okay! Let me go so I can actually do it!” Adora manages between their laughter, grabbing her phone and sitting back on the couch. The second the pair starts to lean from the other side of the couch Adora turns so they can’t see it. “Oh my god just let me do it!” Adora knew she sounded like a child, but they were being so _nosey_.

After eight drafts and multiple small arguments with Bow and Glimmer she finally decided on her message.

_I was wondering if you’d want to meet for coffee tomorrow?_

  
With a surge of giddy confidence, Adora sent it. _Fuck it, right?_ The second she sent it she threw the phone on the couch she started giggling into her sweatshirt. Both Glimmer and Bow join her, excitement radiating throughout the room. Her anxiety then resurfaces, doubts begin to circle in her mind. _Did I misread her? Did she just want her jacket back? Will she just make fun of me after how she saw me in the alley?_ No longer smiling, Adora furrowed her brows, unsure if her message was stupid. Before her thoughts could continue, her phone buzzes, vibrating the couch while all three of them stare at each other, silent. Glimmer was the first to break the silence.

“Well, open it!!”

Adora fell asleep later that night rereading their messages, her heartrate quickening every time her eyes glazed over the words: _yes. how about 11?_

* * *

_“You have to practice choosing_ yourself _. Investing in yourself. Investing in your own happiness. Adora, there’s a whole lot more to life than trying to get even and prove yourself to others.”_ Bow’s words echoed in her head, sounding soft and comforting, different than the usual sneering voice that plagues her mind. Focusing on those words, she jumps out of the car.

After talking with Glimmer and Bow, she felt a little more confident and excited instead of overly anxious and intimidated. With the weight of everything going on _slightly_ lifted, she could finally let herself have one thing. _Investing in myself._ Her mind echoes once more. _Following what feels good; what makes me happy._

She stepped into the coffee shop at 10:46am, her body nearly shaking with nervous energy, and yet still unable to wipe a big grin off her face. She clutched Catra’s black leather jacket like a lifeline, intoxicated by the faint scent of the girl that wafted into the air. With a pep in her step, she wanders toward two open brown leather sofa chairs, both pointing towards a small coffee table in the front of them.

Glancing at her phone for the third time, Adora curses at the fact that it was still 10 ‘til 11. Noticing her nerves start to rise, she puts her headphones in and plays the carefully curated comfort playlist.

The songs immediately soothed her nerves, grounding her as she focused on the lyrics to the songs.

_Hit the road and headed West_

_To San Antonio_

_Got to begin across the Rio Grande_

_Took a walk on the canyon_

_We were lost_

_Inside our minds,_ -

“Hey, Adora.” That raspy voice hit Adora like a freight train, and she stood up a little too quickly all while trying to rip her headphones out of her ears and greet the woman in front of her. And she looked _incredible_. A darker red long sleeve peeked out from underneath her black coat and _damn, maroon really was her color._ She had black jeans that hugged the curve of her body and Adora noticed the hint of eyeliner that framed her eyes, shining gold and teal. Anddddd Adora was staring. And her jaw was practically on the floor.

“uhh! Hi! Catra! Hello! How are you?” Adora shuts her mouth and her hand instinctively heads toward the back of her neck, internally wincing at how flustered she must have sounded.

Catra smiles at her and softly chuckles. Adora couldn’t help but notice the way one of her K-9s caught on her lip when she smiled, peeking out from her lips. It was so freaking cute.

“Hey,” Catra says once more, looking around the coffee shop. “I’m doing alright, wanna order? I need some coffee.”

“Sure! Oh and I have this for you!” Adora grabs the leather jacket that sat neatly folded next to her. She hands it off to the other girl who grabs it, smiling.

“Thanks, I’m surprised it’s still intact to be honest.”

Adora feigns offense, dramatically sighing. “How dare you think so low of me!”

“Hey, stop being sarcastic! That’s my thing.” Adora sticks her tongue out at the other girl, resulting in laughter from both parties.

They both walked over to the counter and waiting in line for their drinks. Adora was thanking all the stars for how _natural_ their conversation seemed to flow. Meeting new people was always hit or miss for Adora, she couldn’t really explain it, but sometimes it just didn’t really work and her anxiety would convince her it was her fault.

But this felt different.

A good type of different. Refreshing, even. Even her friendship with Glimmer and Bow was somewhat forced at the beginning due to their high energy and intense nature, but this didn’t feel unnatural at all. It felt right.

“… and then I killed him.” That brought Adora immediately out of her trance, causing her eyes to focus on the _gorgeous_ girl in front of her. _How did we get here? I already ordered?!_

“What?!” Adora nearly shouted, startling the nearby patrons. Catra immediately erupted in a seriously adorable cackle, clutching her stomach and walking back to their chairs with both coffees in her hands.

“Oh my god, you should’ve seen your face! I was seeing if you were listening, you goof, where’d you go?” Catra followed her sentence with a sip of her drink as she sat down.

Adora stared at her for a second, just completely entranced by Catra’s presence. The confidence that radiated off her was contagious, any anxiety about what to say or overthinking what Adora had already said was subdued. So, blame her poise on the beautiful girl in front of her.

“I was just thinking how I’m really happy to be here. With you. Uh, right now.” Some nervousness returned, so Adora lurched for her drink for something to do, which in hindsight, would probably _not_ help her anxiety. Plus, Catra just sat there staring at her with a small grin, for a second too long.

“Me too.”

Adora couldn’t help hiding back a massive smile, but she tried her best by taking another sip of her drink.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, and for once in her goddamn life Adora wasn’t overthinking it. It felt nice just to _be._

And then Catra spews into her signature cackle once more, resulting in Adora looking around for the source of why Catra was laughing. It wasn’t until she finally manages to point at Adora, then at her own lip, that Adora realized she had a _thick_ foam mustache resting comfortably on her top lip. She immediately reaches her sleeve up, prepared to wipe it off, but then stops.

Adora sits up straighter, takes a deep breath, and prepares for the best performance of her life.

“ADVENTURE!” Adora channeled all of her focus into imitating the barista who yelled that after every time he went off to make an order. It just so happened he had a ridiculous handlebar mustache and was definitely a _character_ , making Adora’s replication nearly perfect. Or so she thought, because when she looked back at Catra she just saw a confused expression.

“I’m … you know … the barista!” Adora kept in her pose for way too long, waiting for the other girl to get it.

Catra’s façade broke, cackling once more. “Oh my god, I got you again! Too easy, of _course_ I knew you were imitating Sea Hawke.” Adora joins her counterpart’s laughter, playfully shoving her deeper into the leather chair.

“Hey! You’re a professional kickboxer, that’s not fair!” Catra tries to push her back, but Adora barely moves an inch.

“I’m barely a pro, I’m still learning,” Adora smugly sits back down, recovering after her nearly-failed barista impression.

“How is that, by the way?” Catra asks after a few moments, cautiously watching Adora. “The whole kickboxing thing.”

Adora finally wipes the foam mustache from her upper lip, glancing out the window for a few minutes, thinking. “It’s … okay. I have to decide on sponsorship deals soon, which honestly has been more stressful than I thought. But hopefully once I decided it will seem easier.”

“Who are your contenders? Kinda wild you’ve got all these companies fighting for your attention now.”

“Yeah it definitely is weird…” Adora instinctively grabs her neck with her free hand, rubbing the spot where her hair met the back of her head. “Some sports company, a bakery down the street from the gym, which _I_ thought was really funny. A bakery sponsoring a super gay kick boxer?!”

“That is kinda random.”

“Yeah. And uh …” Adora looks out the window of the coffee shop, wracking her brain for the last company name. “Horde Enterprises? I think that’s what it was called. You know, that big company around here that no one really knows what they do? I guess they’re involved in the boxing scene.” She glances over at Catra who possibly tenses up, which was weird. The movement was small, but Adora noticed it.

_What did Catra have against Horde Enterprises?_

* * *

**Catra’s POV**

_Fuck._

She should’ve known those words were coming, but it didn’t stop her stomach feeling like it’s been punched when she heard them. _Horde Enterprises._

Catra’s grown from the idea that the whole universe has been designed just to inconvenience her, but she really can’t catch a break. She should just get used to these cosmic “fuck you”s by now.

Catra did her best to swallow her automatic reaction, hoping her response wasn’t obvious. The feeling, a heavy, unsure feeling, fought at her throat. It felt thick, occupying her airways, refusing to be pushed down or ignored. The genuine flow of their conversation felt tainted, polluted with a thickness that Catra could never seem to escape from.

_This was a mistake._

“Sorry, would you excuse me for a second?” Catra abruptly gets up from the armchair before she gets a response, walking briskly towards the bathroom.

She busts through the restroom door and heads toward the sink. Leaning over the bowl she exhales a shaky breath out.

“Fuck!”

Her hands head for the phone in her pocket, immediately opening up Scorpia’s contact.

Impulsivity has always been one of her fatal flaws. Sometimes the thoughts get too loud, and sometimes they go eerily quiet, offering no logic, just action. This was one of those latter moments.

**11:16 am**

**hey. call me in 3 mins saying you have an emergency.**

**11:16am**

**Okay! Everything okay?!?!!**

Catra slipped her phone back into her pocket and risks a glance in the mirror. Her face looked paler than usual, her signature wild hair looked disheveled and messy instead of voluminous and captivating. Continuing to stare into her eyes, she takes a deep breath and heads for the door, hoping Scorpia calls soon. Usually, it’s easy to hide any emotion she wanted, replacing the negative feeling with mysteriousness and playfulness, especially for a one-night stand. But here she was with Adora, at a small, quant coffee shop, seeing each other for the third time in a couple days, interest and excitement practically drooling from their chins. _Which is exactly why this has to stop right now._

She gets the door halfway open when it abruptly stops, resulting in Catra almost running into the door. She hears a small “ow.” as the door slowly continues its path, revealing a grimacing Adora rubbing her forehead.

Catra stood there, slightly stunned, her mouth agape and staring at the girl in front of her. She must’ve realized her staring, because Adora immediately dropped her hand to her side and started to look nervous, like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry, I got worried and wanted to check if you were okay, I’m so sorry, I hope that wasn’t too weird,” Adora’s hand traveled back up, this time settling on the backside of her neck. They both seemed to realize they were still standing in the doorway to the women’s restroom at the same time, making eye contact just before heading back to the armchairs with their drinks.

“I’m all good, just had to pee.” Catra said, careful not to be too cold or warm. There was a small feeling of guilt, settling at the bottom of her stomach like a weight, demanding to be recognized. She knew Adora deserved better; she sure as hell didn’t deserve someone who easily lied through her teeth about anything and everything, someone cold and calculating who could barely stand the thought of being vulnerable in front of someone else, if at all.

Just as they sat down again, Catra’s phone rang. She glanced up at Adora and plastered on a confused frown. She picks up the phone and mouths a “sorry” as she answers it, leaning back into the chair. She waits a few moments until Scorpia starts to talk.

“What do you mean? Are you okay?”

Adora watches her closely, concern creeping into her expression as Scorpia rambles off a very unconvincing lie. Good thing Adora couldn’t hear it.

“Okay, okay. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a half hour.” She ends the phone call and glances up at the girl across from her, a mix of emotions swirled onto Adora’s face.

“My friend has an emergency; I have to go.” Catra stands up promptly, not even bothering to return the mug her coffee came in. She keeps her head down and passes by Adora, just trying to get out of the situation as soon as possible. Throughout their _hangout_ , Adora looked at her unlike anyone else ever had. It made Catra sweat and her skin itch. _I can’t believe I kept texting her, thinking something like this would work out._

“I’ll drive you! So you don’t have to take the train! I hope your friend is okay.” Catra risks a glance over her shoulder, seeing Adora’s nose scrunch up and her brows furrow. She looks concerned, and a little flushed, wringing her hands together as Catra can tell she hopes it wasn’t too forward.

“I uhh…” She stammers, taken aback by the offer and trying to wrack her brain for an excuse not to.

“It’s the least I could do, for what happened.” Adora nervously meets Catra’s eyes, looking small.

Catra’s mind came up blank. _Fuck_. As witty and quick Catra knew she was, her mind drew an absolute fucking blank.

“Oookaayy.” She manages, immediately inhibiting the urge to smack her palm right to her forehead.

She lets Adora lead the way, muttering every string of curses she could think of. _Of fucking course._

* * *

The drive was as awkward as anyone can imagine. Catra spent the majority of the first half of the ride staring out the window and turned away as much as she could. The air was heavy with tension, and Catra could barely hear Adora’s soft drumming of her fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to the soft music over her roaring thoughts. The feelings of frustration were ever present, seeping into Catra’s every thought. Frustration at herself mainly, but also at the approaching traffic which would mean even _more_ time spent in this discomfort.

Catra just couldn’t take it anymore. The concern, tiptoeing on downright pity, permeated the car from the driver’s seat and it drove her insane. Plus, who the hell still listens to the Top 40 anymore? The car rolled to a stop as they approached some construction.

“Do you listen to this shit before your fights? Please tell me you don’t.” Catra’s scoffed, not exactly sure why she wanted to snap at this girl who was only showing her kindness, but the situation was uncomfortable and Catra wasn’t going to see this girl anymore, so it didn’t matter. At least that’s what she told herself.

“Whaatt? You don’t like this?” Adora met Catra’s eyes, smiling somewhat mischievously and turns the volume up while keeping eye contact. Catra couldn’t help her mouth from turning upwards slightly, but she quickly corrected it.

“Adora, turn it down I –"

“What, Catra? I can’t hear you over this song!!”

Catra musters her best glare, but it falters the second she looked back at Adora with her head back, singing contently along to the stereo.

_Wrapped around your finger_ _  
I'd spent my whole life  
Tied in ways to have you  
And everything was alright  
Almost but not quite  
I'd be tangled up without you  
Oh, a mess  
Like a nightmare in an empty bed  
With you it's like I'm coming home again_

Adora turns the volume down after the first verse, meeting Catra’s eyes. Adora seemed to notice her reluctance and she slightly deflated. That small movement made Catra’s stomach shift.

“Sorry, I just love that son-“

“Can I play a song?” Catra blurts out.

Adora shifts in her seat and faces Catra, a smile returning to her face as she disconnects her phone and hands her the chord.

She didn’t even know what song she was going to play. What was with her brain today?

The song she clicked was softer than her _logical_ brain would’ve picked, especially following Adora’s song, but it was a fantastic song regardless. And _apparently_ her logical brain, the one that built her walls and kept her safe from everyone around her, was on fucking holiday.

_Well, sometimes I go out by myself_ _  
And I look across the water  
And I think of all the things of what you're doing  
In my head I paint a picture_

As the song begins to play, they start to move forward through the construction. Catra forgot they were even in traffic, something she normally despised so much she’d rather take the train for an hour than a cab for half an hour if it means sitting in traffic. Weird.

Settling into the comfort the song provided, Catra sat further into her seat and closed her eyes, humming along to the words she knew all too well. Even Adora sang softly to the chorus, much to Catra’s reluctant delight. Her voice was strong, similar to her persona. As anxious and unsure as Adora could be, she had a glow of strength and determination, her focus on her career was just one example. She just _cared_. It was cute – how much she already seemed to care about Catra. The way she didn’t really think before she talked, like how she offered to drive her home without even thinking.

But Catra lied.

She _lied._ To her face.

Catra glanced over at her, singing along to Amy Winehouse’s cover, one hand on the tan wheel of her old, very fitting, Toyota while the other resting was on the open window, feeling the breeze. It felt like her stomach was at war, each side attacking the other with tenacity. The guilt encompassed one side, while the other was … lighter. Hopeful, maybe. _Wanting._ And despite the constant churning, the later was currently winning.

As the song came to a close, the discomfort from earlier seemed to slowly dissipate. As much as the guilt from earlier still lingered in Catra’s head, it was overpowered from something she couldn’t quite place.

“I haven’t heard that song in awhile. I forgot how much I’d loved it,” Adora broke the silence, smiling fondly while watching the road in front of her.

“Me too. That song was –“ She paused, unsure what _the fuck_ was happening in her brain to open up a small portion of the vault that was her childhood memories. She hadn’t even told Scorpia the depth of what had happened, and now she was about to tell someone she had only known for a few days? Well, she wasn’t planning on seeing this girl again, she _couldn’t_ , so what the hell, right?

“That song was important to me, growing up. Someone left behind a _very_ old iPod at the park on day and this was one of the songs on it. That and some Fleetwood Mac and other classics,” _Stop. Fucking. Talking._ Catra closed her eyes in an attempt to rid herself of her frustrated thoughts. “I _loved_ that little thing. It was held together by sheer willpower near the end.” She sighed and looked further out the window. “And then she… uh someone stole it. That fucker.”

Adora didn’t respond for a while, soaking in the small bit of information she was given. Just before Catra’s thoughts could saturate her in embarrassment, Adora grabs her hand on the center console and looks at her.

“I’ll beat them the _fuck_ up.” Catra was taken aback by the seriousness in her stare, and then Adora laughs. And holy fuck, that _laugh_.

“I’m kidding,” She looks back at the road. “Maybe.” She grins to herself. She continues, “But seriously, that’s shitty someone took something that was important to you. That happened to me a couple times, I uhh … living in foster care and having close to nothing was shitty enough, but it was the absolute _worst_ when someone stole the _one_ thing you could call yours.” Her ponytail jumped from side to side as she shook her head, Adora’s face more downcast than before. She must’ve noticed Catra’s mouth slightly agape and tensed up.

“Shoot, I’m sorry that was _way_ too much information for a first date, I promise I don’t want –“

“So this was a first date?” _There_ was her quick wit. Took it long enough. Adora’s immediately getting all flustered was _too_ easy.

“Oh… I mean possibly… I thought so but… I don’t know… I-“ Adora stammers and ends up just closing her mouth, her eyebrows furrowed over her eyes.

“Adoraa, I kidding,” Catra couldn’t help but laugh at how much Adora visibly relaxes at the words.

“I was actually in foster care, too,” She looks cautiously at Adora, gauging her reaction. “But I don’t talk about it much.”

Adora looks at her once more, her expression softening. “I don’t either. As supportive as Glimmer and Bow are, and as much as they try, they would never understand exactly what it was like.”

Catra hums in response, starting to notice her surroundings and realizes she’s close to her and Scorpia’s apartment. A weird feeling, a pull, settled in her chest, dreading the upcoming departure. But she knew that she had to.

With how the Horde Enterprises seemed to weasel its way into every aspect of Catra’s life, she felt almost overwhelmed. It was like that phenomenon where you start seeing a word pop up super frequently, more so than normal. Thinking about the company made Catra’s stomach churn, especially when thinking more about the weird setup of rings in that warehouse and how they wanted to sponsor Adora. Catra knew how convincing they could be, especially with how manipulating and relentless they are.

As they approached Catra’s apartment building, she wondered if she should say something about Horde Enterprises. Just the name brought goose bumps to her arms.

“You mentioned some sponsorship prospects earlier, uhh that’s pretty cool?” She tried her best to sound nonchalant, but she really wanted to know what Adora knew about the company. The smile the girl returned was _well_ worth any anxious thoughts swirling in Catra’s stomach.

“Yeah! It’s kind of stressful trying to decide which one to go with, because they’re all different.” Adora mentioned, resulting in even more conflicting feelings on Catra's part. Should she try to convince her to look elsewhere, but how would she do that without sharing her involvement in their _very_ illegal activities. It also wasn't her business, and Catra knew better than to get involved, so she decided against it. 

“You seem like the type to have a spreadsheet about it.”

Adora tried her best to hide her smile. “… I will neither confirm nor deny the idea that I have an excel spreadsheet on the sponsorship deals.” Her smile broke free, captivating Catra’s attention.

“I wouldn’t have thought any different, Princess.”

The flush on her cheeks was more than worth it.

* * *

The elation of the car ride left Catra leaning up against the closed apartment door, standing there, like a lovestruck idiot. Like, an actual idiot. What did she think she was doing?

_Stop. It._

Catra shook her head, attempting to rid her mind of these stupid, impossible thoughts. She would never be able to escape the reach of Horde Enterprises, no matter how hard she tried.

She wasn’t sure what exactly made her want to leave, she logically knew it wasn’t Adora’s fault Horde Enterprises wanted to sponsor her, and why couldn’t she just bring herself to tell the truth? That The Horde is evil and she should absolutely, under no circumstances, let them sponsor her?

But it wasn’t Catra’s business. And she couldn't tell her what she knew. At least that’s what she kept trying to convince herself. 

She takes a step towards the nearby living room, nearing jumping when Scorpia lunges towards her.

“Wildcat!! Are you okay? What happened? Tell me EVERYTHING! Bad dates suck so I got out ice cream and the leftover Thai food.” Scorpia looks at her, silently asking for permission to squeeze the lights out of her. Because she did Catra a favor, she _supposedly_ deserves a hug. She nods, bracing herself.

After a few moments of feeling like Catra’s eyes would pop out of her body, she squirms away from Scorpia’s grasp and takes a few recovering breaths. She glances up at her roommate, who was wearing an expectant expression. With a sigh, Catra sits down on their cheap, second-hand couch and pats the spot next to her.

Scorpia nearly squeals at the invitation, jumping over the arm rest and crossing her legs, looking like an excited child ready for story time.

Maybe it was the way Adora seemed to beam with every small bit of information Catra told her, but she felt more inclined to actually give Scorpia the truth she deserved. Excluding the Horde business, obviously.

So, she did. As much as it hurt, and as difficult as it was to ignore the array of alarms going off in her head, she tried her best to explain, in a watered-down way, her complicated mixture of feelings when it came to Adora. How she seemed so at ease when they spoke, but it was exactly that feeling that made her feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, making her want to run away as soon as possible.

Scorpia sat in silence after her rant, pondering what Catra said. It made Catra squirm – sitting there after sharing more than she ever planned to, and her roommate not saying anything.

After a minute, Scorpia finally takes a breath in and looks back at Catra.

“First of all, I am SO glad you told me.” Catra nods back at her, shrinking a bit in the discomfort.

“That sounds complicated, and I want to check in, how are you feeling now?”

Catra pauses for a moment, not expecting the question. “Um, okay? It’s … hard to say … some things, so I feel … kind of, tense I guess? But also lighter? I don’t know.”

“It’s totally okay not to know. So I think-“

“Scorpia,” Catra interrupts and holds up her hand, “I … appreciate you, but I’m not looking for advice right now. I think I just need some time to sit with it all.” She glances up at her roommate and is met with a bright smile and kind eyes.

“Oh, Wildcat.”

“What?! Do I have something on my face?” Catra wipes at her mouth a couple times, hoping for the love of _god_ it wasn’t there the whole time she was with Adora.

Scorpia chuckles, shaking her head. “No, I’m just really proud of you.” Catra felt her face get warm and turned away from her roommate, unsure what to do.

“Thanks.” She mutters, turning even further away from the source of vulnerability. Truthfully, Catra was exhausted. Physically, she felt fine, even a little jittery from the coffee and adrenaline from doing something she normally doesn’t do, but emotionally was a whole different story. Her brain felt close to mush, even though it was only barely one in the afternoon. Who knew just _feeling_ could be so tiring?

Catra gets up and moves toward her room, her roommate smiling at her the whole way. She was more than thankful that she didn’t pry or ask any questions. When she closed the door, Catra exhaled a huge breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her conflicting emotions were swirling in her head and she knew it would lead to a headache.

_You don’t deserve the attention, Adora is way better of a person than you could ever become._

Catra clutches her head, massaging her temples, trying to escape the heavy self-deprecating thoughts that are all too natural.

_You will never escape the clutches of Horde Enterprises. If you knew what was good for you, you’d stay away from her._

“Ugh!”

There wasn’t even a logical reason why exactly Catra felt like she needed to push Adora away, she had no knowledge of Catra’s involvement with Horde Enterprises and even when Catra tried to convince herself to stay away from her and leave their coffee “meet-up”, she still had a blast driving home with her. Adora could be so sure of herself and yet so uncertain at the same time, and just being in Adora’s presence felt electrifying. 

At this point, all Catra knew was that this shit was confusing.

* * *

Catra spent the remainder of the afternoon sketching, channeling all of her weird, nervous energy into moving her hand on the coarse paper in front of her. A half-smoked joint sat idly on her home-made ceramic ashtray, assisting in the flow of creative juices. She wasn’t sure if it was the weed or the all too familiar avoidance of feelings, but Catra’s hand could barely keep up with her ideas, which ranged from design ideas to some ceramic pieces she still needed to glaze, to how she wanted to sculpt a new figure. If she just focused on this for as long as she could maybe the big, bad feelings would go away …

The only reason she answered the incoming phone call was because she accidentally pressed answer in an attempt to decline due to a very _rude_ stop to her music. Without even looking at the caller I.D., and now that it was too late, she brings the phone to her ear. She continues her current sketch and doesn’t say anything.

“Well hello, Catra.”

The second her icy voice hit Catra’s ears the pen dropped from her hand, clattering on top of her desk. Catra’s breath seemed caught at her throat, her experience at the warehouse still fresh in her mind, even after every attempt to bury it away, hoping to never think about it again.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

Catra shook herself from her trance, blind rage encompassing her like a tidal wave. She could feel her body changing as her veins filled with _something_. Something that made her want to get up and punch the lights off Weaver’s dusty, disgusting face.

“Hmm. I’ll just move on then. Someone told me you met with a promising, new kickboxer this morning, She-Ra is it?”

A guttural nearly-growl threatened to escape Catra’s throat. _How did she know that already? Why does she care?_ She nearly smacks her head when she remembers the Horde’s offer, and her stomach drops at the realization.

“Well, I should’ve known you’d be rude, so I guess I’ll get right to it. Convince She-Ra to accept the contract for being sponsored by Horde Enterprises and I’ll drop any and all evidence of your little _incident_. For good.”

Catra couldn’t bring herself to say anything. If felt like everything she wanted to say, every curse word, every insult, everything got caught on its way out, dying right on her tongue. Her mouth felt dry, void of any moisture, unable to say _anything_. Her mind felt staticky, unable to truly comprehend the words being spoken to her. The thing that tied her to staying here, staying as one of Shadow Weaver's occasional runners, was the evidence behind what happened. Without it, she could leave, maybe starting somewhere fresh, away from the hell that is Brightmoon.

“You have until tomorrow to convince her, or else we might make your little _lesson_ two nights ago a reality.”

The click of the receiver seemed to echo as Weaver’s voice disappeared. Catra didn’t know how long she sat there, staring out the window, with her eyes unfocused.

It didn’t seem like she had a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this is obviously a fictional story, I base some of their experiences based on what I know and can write about. Just a reminder that you are not a burden to those who love you, and please reach out if you are struggling. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, what do you think Catra will do?


End file.
